Corridor
by Synbou
Summary: Part of the Neoplasm Universe. After his 30 days sentence in the brig, Tom finds out that Voyager has been contacted by some friends back in the AQ.
1. The Secret Pain

DISCLAIMER: Tom Paris and the rest of Voyager's crew are  
Paramount's, but the story, the Amnesty, and unrelated characters  
are Synbou's. This is a P/T story rated PG-13. Set after 30 Days.  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Remember in the first season when Harry met  
Tom in the other time-line? Tom told him that friends like his,  
you never knew when they would come handy. It got us interested.  
Just how handy Tommy's friends could be? After writing *Neoplasm*  
and *In The Dark*, this idea became even more appealing.  
  
WARNING: Synbou is not known for happy stories. So, expect  
again lots of anguish in this one. We want to reassure you that  
Synbou is a very happy collective! Although, Isabelle wrote part  
of this story after a week long painful migraine....   
  
SYNOPSIS: After serving his 30 days sentence in the brig, Tom  
finds out that Voyager has been contacted by some friends back in  
the Alpha Quadrant. Now, he must deal with the consequences of  
his incarceration and new found responsibilities.  
  
Prior stories in this universe:  
1) Neoplasm  
2) In The Dark  
3) Decytologenesis  
  
Corridor: The Secret Pain.  
By Synbou  
synbou@hotmail.com  
  
***  
  
Ensign Tom Paris called for illumination the moment that he  
entered into his quarters. It had been a very long month since he  
had been there. A very long month passed in the brig as a  
result of a series of actions he had made for what he still  
sincerely believed were justified, but which had not been without  
consequences. Well, Tom mused, if he had not learned to live with  
the consequences of his actions by now, he probably had learned  
nothing.  
  
"You have mail," the automated female computer voice announced.  
  
It stopped him dead in his tract. Had he heard correctly? Sure,  
he had programmed the computer to tell him that he had received  
mail on voice recognition, but he had never thought it would  
happen anytime soon.   
  
He carelessly dropped the padd, holding his letter to his father,  
on the nearest coffee table, and went to his closet. From the  
bottom shelf, he retrieved a small box and came back to the  
living area. The box had been awaiting for him in his quarters,  
even before he had put foot on Voyager more than five years ago.  
It had been a gift from people he loved deeply and missed  
terribly. It was now holding his most precious possessions.   
  
Tom disengaged the security lock, then opened the box. Inside, he  
found a small portable computer the size of a real hard cover  
book stored in a wine leather cover. Putting the cover aside, he  
opened the computer which loaded rapidly. An envelop appeared on  
the screen, an old symbol indicating that he did in fact have  
mail. He entered his password and the message revealed itself to  
him. Tom unconsciously brought a hand to his mouth has he read  
it. It was simple: a set of coordinates, a stardate, the name of  
a ship, and it was signed.   
  
Tom wrote a short reply and finally breathed deeply before  
pressing the SEND button. He allowed himself a smiled of relief.  
Things were about to change. Again. His father might not only  
live to read his letter, but also have a chance to respond to it.  
Tom caught himself feeling hopeful, not only for that, but for  
many other things. It surprised him how good it felt and decided  
to hold on to it. He carefully put back the box in the closet  
before hitting the shower.   
  
****  
  
Captain Janeway stepped off the turbolift and almost collided  
with Seven of Nine. Despite, the emotionless attitude the former  
Borg was fond of portraying, Janeway clearly sensed some  
irritation in her demeanor.  
  
"Something wrong, Seven?" she asked.  
  
"Mr. Paris ordered me out of the Astrometric Lab," the young  
woman replied dryly.  
  
"He did? I'm sure that he had his reasons," she answered  
wondering herself what those reasons could be. She had been more  
than intrigued by Tom's request that she meet with him in the lab  
first thing in the morning. Even more, when he had specified hat  
he had good news for her. His message and tone of voice had been  
professional. One would never have known that he had just been  
released from the brig. Just like B'Elanna, Harry, and all f  
Tom's friend on this ship, she had missed him terribly.  
Sentencing Tom to a month of solitary confinement and demoting  
him to ensign had been one of the most difficult duties she ever  
had to do. It had been a very long month for her as well. A month  
during which she had to cope with the pain of being betrayed by  
someone she trusted implicitly. A month during which she had to  
live with the consequences of her decisions. What had been worst?  
Facing B'Elanna's resentment? Hearing Ayala's report that Tom had  
nightmares? Sharing Neelix's concerns about Tom's lost of  
appetite? Seeing Harry looking so pitiful? It sadden her so much  
at one point that she allowed Harry to see his best friend for a  
few minutes.  
  
No.   
  
The worst had been the guilt. The guilt at knowing that Tom was  
suffering from his solitary confinement. Yet, she had not been  
able to take back her decision. To do so would have been a sign  
of weakness. If she had not treated this matter so harshly, she  
feared she would have lost control of her crew. To get them home,  
that was not an option. She had to be strong, for them, she had  
to set examples. Her actions had to dissuade others from taking  
matters into their own hands. Above all, she could not have  
favorites.   
  
However, all the arguments spent, Tom was still Tom, a good  
friend. He was a man who had confided a lot in her, and that she  
knew was very fragile inside. Chakotay had commented on the fact  
that her close friendship with Tom, `her first personal  
reclamation project on this ship', as he kept saying, had  
probably led her to be a bit too harsh toward him. Once her anger  
had subsided, she had been forced to agree. But, she still felt  
that she could not disregarded Tom's actions. She knew Tom  
understood her position as she understood his. It hurt  
nevertheless, making her dread this first encounter with him  
after a long and difficult month.   
  
She repeated to herself, that she could not have favorites and  
would have done the same to any other person in a similar  
situation. Hadn't she done the same o Seven?  
  
The doors of the Lab slid open and she found Tom working at a  
console. He turned to face her as he realized her presence. The  
silver necklace that he was wearing immediately caught her  
attention, that and the facts that he had lost weight and that he  
looked tired.   
  
"Captain, it's good to see you," he greeted with a welcoming nod.   
  
"It's good to see you too, Tom," she replied with a smile of her  
own. She walked up to him. He simply smiled as her fingers  
reached for the symbol of the Silver-Seas Foundation. Her  
previous concerns were momentarily abated at the sight of the  
medallion.   
  
"I thought, it was about time that I start wearing it again," he  
confessed. "Especially considering what's coming, or should I say   
WHO's."  
  
She looked up to him in mute surprised.   
  
"Soon, we won't be alone anymore," he explained.   
  
***  
Later that evening.  
  
Tom had joined B'Elanna as she had requested. She had saved up  
all of her rations during the month so that they could eat tomato  
soup and pizza just like Tom liked them.   
  
"That was good," said Tom as he sat back against the back of the  
chair. "With a month of Neelix's cooking, I had forgot what real  
food tasted like."  
  
B'Elanna looked at the pizza that was sitting between them. There  
was a little more than half left. She had eaten more than him.  
  
"You sure you don't want another slice?" she asked. "You haven't  
eaten all that much."   
  
"I'm saving some for breakfast," said Tom mischievously. "You  
haven't tasted pizza until you had it cold for breakfast."  
  
"If you say so," answered B'Elanna shaking her head. "Do you want  
desert? It's cherry pie."  
  
"Not right now, Bee, may be a little later."  
This was not right, Tom had never turned down cherry pie.  
  
"Are you sure you are okay? Maybe the Doc should have a look at  
you."  
  
"I'm fine. I guest that I got use to not eating much while in the  
brig. Neelix's food isn't the mot appetizing."  
  
B'Elanna had to agree with him on that point. She would have cut  
back herself if she had been on a strict Neelix diet for a month.   
  
Her thoughts were completely shifted when Tom came around the  
table and tackled her. In seconds they were both on the carpet of  
the living room. He covered her mouth with his and kissed her  
deeply. After long moment he came up for air and whispered into  
her ear.  
  
"I missed you so much."   
  
"Me too."  
  
They kissed and let their hands rediscover each other. Their  
clothes were discarded and their bodies reacquainted themselves.  
It was glorious for both of them. Pent-up sexual energy gave new  
heights to their love making.   
  
They finished on the couch, both naked. B'Elanna was sitting on  
one of the sides. Tom was laying across the sofa with his head on  
her lap. Both of their bodies glistened with the aftermath of  
their activities.   
  
Tom sighed.   
  
B'Elanna bent down and kissed him on the forehead. With her hand  
she traced his face. She had missed him so much. And until an  
hour before she had not realized how much her body had craved for  
Tom's touch.  
  
"How about some of that pie now?" B'Elanna asked. The exercise  
had made her hungry.   
  
"Okay," answered Tom.   
  
B'Elanna moved forward a bit as Tom was sitting up. He stopped  
abruptly placing his hands on both sides of his head and laying  
back. As a sharp breath escaped him. Tears assembled at the  
corner of his eyes.  
  
"What is it?" B'Elanna asked concerned, uncertain of where to put  
her hands.  
  
"Headache," was his flat answer.  
  
"Aren't one suppose to get those before having sex?" The comment  
was ill chosen and had left her lips before she had realized what  
she had said. She was worried. "I'm calling the Doc," she told  
Tom.  
  
"No, don't bother him, it's gone now," he said sitting up. The  
pain had indeed reduced to a dull roar. "I'll be fine. Just got  
to get use to your drive again."  
  
B'Elanna stared at him for a long moment until Tom looked away  
towards the table they had vacated earlier.   
  
"Did you just say something about pie?" He wasn't hungry but he  
needed to distract B'Elanna.   
  
It was just a bad headache, it would be gone in the morning. Tom  
and B'Elanna were now lazily lying on the coach, legs and arms  
entangled, enjoying each other closeness. They had fell silent a  
few moments ago as everything seemed to have been said, or  
almost. For the time being, it was enough for B'Elanna. The rest  
could wait. She could voice her concerns about his well-being in  
the morning, when she knew, Tom would be more receptive.  
  
***  
  
Tom woke up with a start. Images of a fading nightmare still  
clouding his mind. This was stupid, he thought. He considered for  
a moment trying to go back to sleep, but he knew the attempt  
would be futile. He would get even more uncomfortable than at  
that moment. His eyes rested on B'Elanna a few seconds. She was  
so beautiful laying there sound asleep. How lucky she was, he  
envied. He bent toward her and gave her a gentle kiss on the  
forehead. Quietly, he got to his feet and went to the bathroom.  
  
"Gee, Tommy. You look terrible," he told himself. He was pale and  
his eyes were a watery blue. He looked away and stepped into the  
shower. At least the headache was gone. Well, the pain was gone,  
but it was bruised.   
  
He stood under the hot stream of water allowing for each muscle  
to untangle. Part of the previous evening was a blur, but he did  
remember B'Elanna and him. The month in the brig had gotten him  
out of shape for her kind of foreplay.   
  
The computer told him that his hot water ration was about to run  
out, so Tom turned off the water and stepped out. He dried  
himself with a towel. While doing so, he noticed that several  
spots on his body were more sensitive than others.   
  
Once dry, Tom walked into the sleeping quarters. He opened the  
closet and retrieved his robe. There he got a good look at  
himself in the full length mirror on the door. Several dark  
bruises were coloring his back, arms, and legs.   
  
B'Elanna, Love, I think you were a little rough last night, he  
thought to himself.   
  
Tom went to the small kitchen and opened the refrigeration unit  
where the pizza had been placed the night before. He looked at  
it. Took a slice and told himself that he had lived of this stuff  
at the Academy. He loved pizza. He took a bite. Chewed twice and  
forced himself to swallow. His stomach churned. He firmly told it  
to behave and decided to get away from the offending food.   
  
He needed air.  
  
Quickly he changed into the clothes he had worn the night before  
and left for the holodeck. However, before leaving he left a rose  
on his pillow beside B'Elanna.   
  
***  
  
B'Elanna rolled in her sleep, unconsciously looking for Tom's  
warm body. The coldness of the sheets woke her up. She sighed as  
she immediately realized that Tom was no longer in bed with her.  
His absence hurt her more than she was willing to admit. In  
dismay, she brought the red rose that had been left beside her to  
her nose. The sweet scent kept her rising anger at bay, while a  
single tear slid down her cheek. She quickly tossed it away  
before getting up.   
  
She made her way to the living area. There, on the coffee table,  
was the vase in which she had put the five previous roses that  
Tom had left for her to find in the morning. Carefully, she added  
the sixth. She sighed again. Half a dozen roses to accompanied  
six lonely mornings.... Not a single day, since Tom had been  
released from the brig almost a week ago, had they woken up  
together. Her fine fingers gently caressed the smooth flower as  
another tear rolled down her cheek.   
  
"Tom, why wont you stay with me? What am I doing wrong?" she  
whispered in the empty room.   
  
***  
1 week later.  
  
A the end of Beta Shift, Commander Chakotay made his way to the  
Mess Hall hoping to find something warm and soothing to drink  
before turning in. Although it was passed 0100, he was not  
surprised to find a few crew members still gathered around and  
chatting softly. However, Tom Paris was sitting all alone in a  
corner, reading something. A bowl of what looked like tomato soup  
sitting before him.   
  
Chakotay had grown increasingly concerned about the pilot over  
the last weeks. Since the accident that had put Tom in a week  
long coma seven months earlier, and allowed him and Kathryn to  
have a glimpse at the younger man's past, Chakotay had gotten  
better at reading Tom's behavior. He could clearly see that, even  
two weeks later, Tom was still suffering from his incarceration.   
  
Tom had boarded Voyager five years ago with an unique ability to  
protect himself from others by distancing himself from them. His  
walls had finally started to crumble one after the other, leaving  
him vulnerable and exposed. This compelled his friends to come  
forward to give him support and even grow protective of him.   
  
Harry Kim had been the first one to see the real person. Kathryn  
had also realized soon enough that there was more to Thomas  
Eugene Paris that met the eye. Something that Chakotay had only  
recently fully recognized. Kes too, with all of her abilities and  
humanity, had also seen right through Tom's walls. Eventually,  
Neelix had came around and put aside his jealousy and resentment  
for the pilot.   
  
As time passed, the rest of the crew had slowly began to trust  
him. Naomi's birth had led Tom to confide in Samantha Wildman the  
fact that he had children. The relapse of his cancer had brought  
him to do the same with B'Elanna. Janeway and Chakotay finding  
out about it too seemed to completely change Tom's attitude about  
the subject. Through it all, Tom and B'Elanna's love had  
blossomed.  
  
However, since Tom's incarceration , some things had changed.  
Chakotay couldn't really point out when Tom's moods had started  
to darken. It had seemed that Tom had fully acknowledged the  
consequences of his actions which had led him to pass 30 days in  
the brig. Although, he had not regained the weight he had lost,  
he was still too pale, and looked tired. After the accident with  
the spacial anomaly, Tom had been so happy, almost relieved. He  
even seemed more settled. These days, if one knew him well  
enough, one could see that the pilot was worried about something,  
and that some unknown pressure appeared to lay heavily on his  
shoulders. He had grown more quiet and subdued. Chakotay feared  
that depression was looming over the younger man.  
  
His cup of tea in hand, he made his way toward his friend's  
table.  
  
"May I join you?"  
  
"Commander," Tom greeted. "Sure, have a seat. I just finished  
beta shift?"  
  
Chakotay nodded as he brought the warm cup of tea to his lips.   
  
"Gee, I haven't realized it was so late already," Tom admitted.  
  
"Looks like what you're reading is quite good."  
  
"Not really," Tom replied tossing the padd aside. "The Doc  
insists that I brush up on my medical training."  
  
"He needs you as his assistant," Chakotay justified.  
  
"Yeah, right," was Tom's sarcastic respond. "Like he needed me a  
month ago."  
  
He could have, Chakotay thought. Instead, he said out loud:  
  
"We missed you, Tom. Both personally and professionally."  
  
"Thanks Chakotay," his companion replied visibly uncomfortable.   
  
Tom took a spoon full of his soup then looked out the view-port.  
Chakotay thought he saw the young man hide a sour face as if the  
food was bad, but he did not say anything. Silence fell between  
the two men. Chakotay just sat back in his chair, his own gaze  
reaching for the infinite field of stars on the other side of  
the window as well.  
  
"I don't know what to believe anymore," Tom finally confessed  
just above a whisper. "It seems that I have lost my way. I tried  
so hard to hide the past, I forgot who I am."  
  
"Now, the past has caught up with you and you can't hide or  
ignore it anymore."   
  
Tom sighed heavily.  
  
"More than you could ever know." He sighed again. "I'm just so  
tired... I better go to bed, then. I've never been good at this  
self-analysis stuff anyway. I'll leave that to you. Good night,  
Chakotay."  
  
"Oh, thanks. Good night, Tom," Chakotay replied as the younger  
man rose to his feet and left.   
  
Chakotay caught himself staring at the bowl of soup Tom had left  
behind. He remarked to himself that it was not in Tom's habit to  
leaving his favorite dish half-eaten behind.   
  
"Damn you, Paris," he murmured. "I'm not going to lose another  
night of sleep musing about you."  
  
Despite himself, his wolf and her new big Himalayan cat companion   
visited him again in his dreams. The wolf was edgy. The cat was  
in bad shape, his pelt was dull and he looked very thin under his  
matted coat. Even his eyes were more grey than blue. The wolf was  
concerned. However, they both insisted that soon they would  
undertake a new path. A path full of challenges and dangers.   
  
***  
  
The following day, Captain Janeway called for a meeting of the  
senior staff in the Astrometric Lab.   
  
"Captain, what is this about?" Chakotay asked once everyone was  
assemble in the room.  
  
"I'll let Tom do the explaining, Commander," she answered.  
  
"Last night, Chakotay made a comment about my past catching up  
with me, well let me tell you that it's catching up real fast.  
You all know by now of my involvement with the Silver Seas  
Foundation."  
  
Everyone nodded, but stayed silent.  
  
"About a month ago, I started receiving messages from my former  
colleges through the receiver of this portable computer," Tom  
continued, showing the item. "The messages are specifically coded  
to be received by my computer and send through subspace. There's  
about four-month delay between the dates the messages were sent,  
and when I received them. In those messages, I've been granted  
the right to tell you what I'm about to say."   
  
Tom took a deep breath while he collected his thoughts.   
  
"Now, I won't give you a class in astrophysics, suffice to say  
that we know that many kinds of subspace dimensions exist, the  
Borg transwarp conduits are one. During the Irsian/Kimirian War,  
Kimirians researchers found a way to obtain access to a subspace  
dimension they refer to as Eltsha: the Corridor."  
  
Tom pressed a few commands and the specifics of the Corridor  
appeared on the huge screen before them.   
  
"The Borg is aware of the Corridor," Seven put in. "However, the  
transwarp conduits have proven to be more efficient."  
  
"Probably because the Borg soon realized that their Cubes would  
get crushed if they were to overlap in two Inter-layers, of  
different over-rails ."  
  
"I'm not following you anymore," Harry said. "What are the  
over-rails and the inter-layers?  
  
Tom walked closer to the display and used it as he explained.   
  
"See, the Corridor is like a river. From one bank to the other  
there are dimensional shifts: the inter-layers. All inter-layers  
have their own current which has its own speed and direction: the  
over-rails. Usually, closer to the center is the inter-layers,  
faster is the current. The Kimirians came up with a ship design  
that allow them to travel in the Corridor. They are small ships,  
highly maneuverable. Obviously, most Federation starships can't  
travel in the Corridor, but we believe Voyager could." Tom  
smiled. "In about six months from now, we should be able to meet  
with Amnesty: the Foundation's flagship."  
  
"The Foundation is taking us home, not Starfleet?" asked Harry  
sounding a little disappointed.  
  
"Actually Harry, it a joint mission with Starfleet. And, they'll  
try," Tom answered. "Hell, I hate to say this. Don't get your  
hopes up too high. Traveling in the Corridor is not a picnic. It  
won't be for the crew's health and won't be for Voyager. Even  
with extended shielding, Voyager will not be able to remain in it  
for very long. The best we can hope for is to shave a few years  
off our trip. How long wold it take to get to the Alpha  
Quadrant? I don't know. I'll depends on the conditions will  
encounter once were in it."   
  
"You said that it wouldn't be a picnic for the crew's health,"  
began the Commander. "What did you meant?"  
  
"Well, nothing deadly, but I'll let the Doc explain," Tom  
answered.   
  
The Doctor stood up and took 'front stage', obviously very proud  
to do so. He cleared his voice and waited just a second too long  
before starting.  
  
"Mr. Paris approached me a few days ago to tell me about the  
impacts this Corridor has on people. It is actually quite  
fascinating...."  
  
"Doctor," Janeway said rising her hand, putting an end to the  
hologram's presentation, which she knew, if kept unchecked, would  
go on and on. "I'm sure this is very fascinating," she went one.  
"But, I want to know what we will experience when we enter the  
Corridor."  
  
Tom decided to jump back in and get right to the point. "Motion  
sickness".  
  
"Simply put, that is about accurate," the Doctor confirmed. "The  
motion of this ship in the corridor will be sensed by the brain  
but not the senses, therefore confusing it."  
  
"So we will be sick to our stomachs the whole time," Chakotay  
said.   
  
"Not everyone, Commander," Tom corrected. "About 60% of the  
crew should experience motion sickness symptoms, 20 % of which  
will be disabled by them."   
  
"A few weeks before entering the Corridor, I propose that all of  
the crew be tested for motion sickness. Those that are afflicted  
by the condition will receive proper medication to suppress the  
symptoms." The Doctor was obviously very happy to have been able  
to deliver that part of his speech.  
  
You're going to have way too much fun, Doc. But wait until you  
meet Dr. Margo, Tom thought to himself looking at the doctor with  
an evil smile.   
  
"Some discomfort never scared this crew," Janeway said with  
assurance. "But, even if the people of the Foundation can't take  
us all the way home, saving some time of our trip will be more  
than welcome."  
  
"Yes, it would be," Chakotay agreed. "Now, where does it leaves  
us?"  
  
"Tom and I have already started working on a plan to do the  
necessary modifications Voyager will need to enter in the  
Corridor," Janeway explained. "While we continue to do that,  
Voyager will go on with her mission."  
  
"Mr. Paris, may I ask," Tuvok began. "What took you so long to  
inform us that the Amnesty was on her way?"  
  
"On both sides, we had to make sure that it could be done. If  
something happen to Voyager, the Amnesty won't be able to  
accommodate our crew. You also have to keep in mind that the  
Amnesty as a crew compliment of about 50 who all volunteered for   
this mission. They are putting their lives at great risk."  
  
"Then, we shall take every possible precaution to ensure the   
success of this mission," the Vulcan declared.   
***  
  
Tom Paris turned off the screen on the wall before sitting back  
with the navigational crew around the conference table. In view  
of the upcoming rendezvous with the Amnesty, he was meeting with  
every department in order to clarify the situation and explain  
what was expected of the crew.  
  
"The interface between Voyager and the Amnesty's navigational  
systems will allow us to fly the both ships as a single one. That  
will facilitate our entry into the Corridor, our exit, and the  
possible changes of inter-lares once we are in. Beside those  
crucial moments, both ships will be independent from each other.  
So, yes Pablo, you'll be able to pilot freely in the Corridor."  
  
The four other pilots, Commander Chakotay among them, started  
laughing.  
  
"Well, that's reassuring," grinned Pablo Baythart.   
  
"You'll see flying into the Corridor is nothing like flying in  
Normal Space," Tom said enthusiastically. "It's challenging. It  
gives you this incredible rush. It's fun! Well... until you get  
sick to your stomach due to motion sickness and that your only  
current thought becomes focusing on not throwing on the  
bridge..."  
  
"Ow, we don't want that," said Irene Hamilton disgusted.  
  
"It can happened to anyone," Tom pointed out. "But don't worry  
too much about it. The doctor will do a test or two to see how  
affected you'll all be. And we have treatments against it. I'll  
also show you some relaxation and concentration technics that can  
help."  
  
He made eye contact with all of them to appease any doubts.  
  
"I will be distributing every bit of literature I have about the  
Corridor and how to fly into it. I've also already set up a  
program in the holodeck in order for all of us to start getting  
some training. I never took a ship as big as Voyager into the  
Corridor. I can't tell for sure how's she is going to react. So,  
it is important for all of us to run as many simulations as  
possible. Try to anticipate potential problems and solutions.  
Don't stick only to what information I will be giving you  
because it might not be applicable for our situation. Okay?"  
  
Everybody nodded in agreement.  
  
"Good." With a grin, he added. "I'll try to stay out of he brig  
so that I can be available at any time for you. Any questions?"  
  
"You think we will be able to put our hands on the helm of the  
Amnesty?" asked Baythart.  
  
"That is something you're going have to work out with Amber. She  
is the Chief Pilot."  
  
"Amber isn't she your Klingon friend?" Chakotay inquired.  
  
"Yeah! She's from the Klingon community of Port-Ayalexis. She has  
the temper of a full Klingon with the finesse and elegance of a  
Kimirian woman She is quite a character."  
  
"I can imagine," conceded Chakotay.  
  
"Well," concluded Tom. "If that's all. You're dismissed."  
  
Once the pilots were gone, Tom leaned back in his chair and  
sighed deeply. He closed his eyes and rested his back against the  
chair.   
  
"Tired?"  
  
He jumped at the sound of the unexpected voice. "Captain," he  
breathed. "You scared the hell out of me!"  
  
"I"m sorry, Tom. I didn't mean to startled you," she apologized  
as she came closer. One of his hands was resting on his  
mid-section, while he was bringing one to his forehead. "Are you  
all right?"  
  
"Sure. I just still have Neelix's latest creation on the  
stomach."  
  
"That and a headache," she added with a sympathetic smile. She  
sat in the chair next to him. "How are things going?"  
  
"Okay, I guess," he replied with a shrugged. "Nothing has really  
started yet. People are getting excited."  
"I know I am," she confessed.  
  
"That's good," he said as he tiredly stood up.   
  
"Tom, take the rest of the afternoon off," she told him. "You  
look like you need it. You're doing a great job on this, but you  
need some time to relax, too."  
  
"I've been relaxing an entire month. Now, it kinda feels good to  
finally do something," he said without meeting her gaze. He  
gathered his data padds in silence and quietly left the room.  
  
Janeway sat back in her chair. She was hurting. Her professional  
relationship with Tom was suffering. Their friendship was in an  
even worse condition. He had to regain her trust as much as she  
had to regain his. In a way, she was glad that this situation was  
forcing them to work together. It was giving them the  
opportunity to deal with this difficult process. She had to admit  
however that her expectations were high. She was not ready to let  
them down. Although, Tom was still her friend, he was a friend  
that she knew was under a lot of stress and who was not coping  
well . She would have to lower the pressure somehow. She  
certainly did not want him get sick over this.   
  
***  
  
"You're up late again."  
  
"Keeping tabs on me, Commander?" Tom asked not bothering to look  
at him. He remained motionless, his eyes lost in the vast star  
field on the other side of the window. It had became a habit the  
last few weeks. Tom was coming to the mess hall for a late  
dinner, some times alone, some times with B'Elanna, to leave in  
the wee hours of the morning.   
  
Chakotay sat down at the table without invitation. He took a few  
padds that was spread on it: ship specs, shields configurations,  
navigational maneuvers, a family pictures of Tom, Loreena, and  
their two girls ....  
  
"I'm concerned about you, Tom," Chakotay admitted after awhile.  
"I have been for quite some time, now. You need to take better  
care of yourself. I know you're worried about your friends and  
all of us, but getting sick over this won't help."  
  
"What do you want me to tell you, Chakotay?" Tom asked. "I have a  
bad feeling. I'm just so damn afraid that something will go  
wrong...."  
  
"What kind of feeling?"   
  
"I don't know, Chakotay. A bad one," Tom replied clearly annoyed.  
  
"Well, try to explain it to me. You started," Chakotay  
encouraged.  
  
For the first time that night, Tom looked directly at the  
Commander and held his gaze.  
  
"The last time I flew a Starfleet ship into the Corridor was at  
Caldik Prime. Now, do you understand why can't sleep at night?"  
  
Tom's cold revelation was unexpected. Chakotay tried very hard to  
control his reaction and not let his shock show too much. The  
last thing he wanted was to spook the pilot and prompt him to  
leave.   
  
"Can I ask what happen?" the older man said carefully.  
  
Tom sighed heavily.  
  
"We were testing three new Starfleet small shuttles. I was  
piloting my usual ship, The Mist. I miscalculated our entry  
point." He said the last sentence not really believing what he  
was saying. "Their shields were not strong enough to endure the  
currents. It forced us out of the Corridor and I saw the three  
shuttles explode... My friends got killed."  
  
"I just can't imagine how hard that must have been for you,"  
Chakotay said sympathetically.  
  
"Not something you would have said five years ago," Tom stated  
flatly, with a hint of bitterness.   
  
Oh Spirits, the truth of that comment hurt. Chakotay was  
reminded, once more, of how a bad judge of character he could be  
at times.   
  
"Which is something I really regret, now," he confessed  
sincerely.  
Tom simply smiled back at him. This would not get in the way of  
their friendship. Yes, they could consider themselves more than  
co-workers now. They could call themselves friends. Sadly,  
however, Tom was right, it was not something he would have  
admitted five years ago.  
  
***  
  
B'Elanna sat on the edge of Tom's couch where he was sleeping. He  
looked so tired. She was hating the very idea of waking him up,  
but duty was calling. She gently brushed his forehead as she  
called out his name. His skin was warm and a bit clammy at her  
touch, which concerned her.  
  
"Tom... Tom, it's time to wake up," she repeated.  
  
He moaned in his sleep as he slowly made it toward awareness.  
After a few moments, his red-rim blue eyes finally opened. It  
took again a few seconds before they focused on her.  
  
"B'Elanna..." he croaked as he slowly recognized her.  
  
"Tom, are you all right?"  
  
"Yeah, I am," he dismissed. "Just having a headache."  
  
"Again?!" she asked, unable to hide her surprise. She pulled him  
into a sitting position. "Have you seen the Doctor about those,  
yet? You promised me you would if it kept coming back."  
  
"I will, B'Elanna. I will," he assured her. "I came back to my  
quarters late last night and fell asleep on the couch, which is  
not that comfortable... If the headache doesn't go away, I will  
go see the Doc. I promise."  
  
"That's what you said the last time, Mister," she pointed out.  
"You're going to see the Doctor about those headaches, TODAY."  
  
"B'Elanna, I'm fine, really." He sighed. "Do we have to have an  
argument this early in the morning?"  
  
B'Elanna breathed deeply. She should know better by now, she told  
herself. Arguing with Tom Paris, at any time, had never proven to  
give the best results in the past. So, she decided to adopt a  
different tactic. She reached with her hand the side of his face  
that she caressed gently. She genuinely smiled as he responded to  
her touch.  
  
"Tom," she began quietly. "I'm concern about you. You don't look  
well. You've been working really hard the last few weeks and been  
under a lot of stress. It shows that you're tired. Your skin is  
also pale and a bit clammy. I'm worried that you might have a  
fever." She paused to let him register her concerns. "Please,  
promise me that you will go see the Doctor today. It can't hurt  
you, and it will make me feel better."  
  
"I don't know about the 'can't hurt you' part," he said somewhat  
teasingly. "All right, B'Elanna. I will go see the Doc today."  
  
"Good," she said and breath a sigh of relief. She came closer and  
kissed him tenderly on the lips. "Thanks."  
  
***  
  
Tom walked into Sickbay. His headache was increasing with each  
step, making him queasy in the process. He wished he could just  
curl up in a cool quiet dark place and sleep it off. However,  
down deep he knew that it would not help. It was just getting  
worse from day to day.   
  
"Ah, if it's not our good Ensign Paris," came the Doctor's  
greeting in one f his most annoying tones of voice. "We don't see  
you around here very often these days. What can I do for you?"  
  
God the guy could get on his nerves some times. Tom brought a  
hand to his forehead hoping that the applied pressure would  
subdue the increasing pain. He breathed deeply in order to keep  
his calm and not lash out at the EMH. He did not need that right  
now.  
  
"Do you have a boo-boo?" The doctor asked as if he was addressing  
a two-year-old.  
  
"I got a very bad headache that just won't got away," he  
answered.   
  
"Hit your head again, Ensign?"  
  
"No," replied Tom, doing his best to keep his calm.  
  
"Well than, why don't you sit on the biobed and I'll take a look  
at that boo-boo of yours as soon as I'm done with this cell  
culture," the Doctor concluded arrogantly while he turned back to  
his tests.  
  
Tom sighed in frustration. Hell, he definitely did not need that  
right now. He could deal with the pain. It was just stress. He  
could replicate a pain killer in his quarters before going to the  
Astrometric Lab. May as well put his sickbay training to good  
use.  
  
"You know what? Forget it. I'll manage," he told the Doctor.  
  
"Mr. Paris?" the Doctor asked obviously confused. That was not  
the kind of come back he was use to receiving from his assistant.  
He had push the joke too far and it had hurt his friend. "Tom,  
please don't leave. I apologize."  
  
The apology however came too late. Tom was already half way out  
of the door when he quickly looked at the Doctor and waved his  
new found concern away.  
  
The Doctor stood there stunned. If it's really bad, he will come  
back, thought the Doctor as he turned back to his work.  
  
The doors of sickbay closed behind the pilot leaving him  
completely consternated by the stupidity of the whole situation.  
His head was still pounding, the pain as bad as ever. He might as  
well go back in there. If not for him, to honor his promise to  
B'Elanna. But he just kept on walking towards his quarters. Going  
back to the Astrometric Lab would take his mind ff of it.   
  
***  
  
His elbows on the consol, Tom rested his head into his hands. He  
sighed in dismay, they were no longer cool enough to provide any  
kind of comfort. The pain killer that he had administrated to  
himself a few hours ago had only subdued his headache and brought  
some relief to aching joints. Feeling too hot, he had took off  
his jacket and lower the temperature of the Astrometric Lab. Now,  
his pain was back with a vengeance.   
  
Debating on whether or not to go back to sickbay, Tom left the  
Lab for his quarters. He felt that lying down would help. He  
could go see the Doctor once a little bit rested, he reasoned.   
He did not called for illumination as he entered his quarters.  
The darkness of the room was more than welcome. He ordered  
another pain killer and a glass of water from the replicator  
before going to his bedroom. He put the empty hypospray and glass  
on the bedside table and lied down. He breathed deeply as relief  
overcame him. Slowly he felt himself doze off..   
  
Sharp cramps in his stomach woke him up. Lying down did not seem  
like a good idea anymore. He had to get to the bathroom. He  
barely made it there in time before throwing up the little he had  
manage to ingest so far. Weakly, he cleaned himself up and rinsed  
his month.   
  
He caught his reflection in the mirror. He was looking as bad as  
he was feeling. As much as he hated the idea, he finally resigned  
himself to go see the Doctor.   
  
He brought a hand to his mid-section as pain kicked in once more.  
He felt the urge to throw up again. He began to panic at the  
taste of blood in his month, which started to fall freely in the  
toilet and on the floor. His legs gave out from under his  
convulsing body and he sank to the floor. His hand move to his  
chest. Tom realized with despair that his comm badge was still  
on his jacket back in the Astrometric Lab. His remaining  
strength ran out.  
  
***   
  
Captain Janeway walked out of her ready room. She surveyed the  
room with a quick look. Chakotay and Tuvok were discussing over  
the security sation. Harry Kim was manning the Ops as usual.  
Seven was working at the engineering consol. Baythart, for his  
part, was sitting at the helm. Janeway joined Chakotay and Tuvok.   
  
"I thought Mr. Paris had the afternoon shift at the helm."  
Chakotay simply nodded as both their gaze flew on Baythart.  
"Shouldn't he be here already?"  
  
For all response the Commander reached for his comm badge.  
"Chakotay to Paris," he called.  
  
They exchanged worried look as they received no answer.  
  
"Didn't B'Elanna say that she had finally convinced Tom to go see  
the Doctor today?" Harry put in.  
"Indeed she had," Tuvok confirmed. "Although, it does not explain  
why Mr. Paris is not answering our hails."  
  
Chakotay tapped his conn badge once more. "Computer, locate  
Ensign Paris."  
  
"Ensign Paris is in the Astrometric Lab." the computer informed  
them.  
  
As Chakotay immediately made his way toward the turbolift,  
Janeway assigned the Bridge to Tuvok then followed her second  
officer.  
  
"Tom clearly hasn't been well in the last few days. I hope it's  
nothing serious," Chakotay voiced his concerned.  
  
"I haven't heard anything from the Doctor," Janeway offered. "As  
the saying goes: no news is good news."  
  
"That's assuming that he went to see the Doctor," Chakotay  
pointed out.   
  
Janeway nodded. She knew as well as Chakotay that Tom and the  
Doctor were barely getting along at times. They also knew that  
Tom just could not stand the EMH when he was not feeling well.   
  
They walked into the Lab. The room was colder than usual and the  
lighting was dimmed. Janeway reached the consol where a black  
and red jacket was lying. Its size only confirmed what she  
already knew: it was Tom's. His comm badge was still attached  
to it, which explained them being there.   
  
"He must not be far," Chakotay said. "His computer is still  
here."  
  
"He never leaves without it," Janeway remarked. "Tom! Tom, where  
are you?!"  
  
Again they received no answer and they both grew more worried. As  
Janeway took stroll around the room, Chakotay went to check the  
nearest washroom.   
  
"He is definitely not here," Chakotay concluded.  
  
Janeway went to a consol and accessed the internal communication.  
On a wide band, she called: "Janeway to Paris, Tom please  
respond." Again, nothing. If Tom was all right, he would have  
heard the hail wherever is was on the ship.  
  
"He could be anywhere," Chakotay pointed out.   
  
She looked around in frustration. Tom was in some kind of danger,  
she could feel it in the pit of her stomach. Her hand reached for  
her comm badge as an idea come to her mind . "Janeway to bridge."  
  
"Tuvok here, Captain."  
  
"Tuvok, we can't locate Tom. We need one of B'Elanna's skeleton  
scans to find him."  
  
It took a few seconds before they heard Harry's voice over the  
link.  
  
"Captain, Tom is in his quarters."  
  
"Acknowledged, Mr. Kim," she replied as she and Chakotay left the  
Lab.  
  
The two senior officers raced trough Voyager's hallways as their  
feeling of urgency grew by the second. They had a short distance  
to cover, and yet they could not get there fast enough.   
  
Once in front of Tom's door, Janeway rang the chime. She was  
hoping that Tom was asleep and that he just had not heard their  
calls. However, her sixth sense was telling her otherwise. When  
Tom did not answer in the following five seconds, she overrode  
his code.   
  
Followed by Chakotay they entered the dark quarters and called  
for illumination.   
  
"Tom!" she called as she walked toward his bedroom.  
  
"Oh Spirits...," she heard Chakotay's voice.  
  
"Chakotay?"  
  
"In the bathroom, Kathryn."  
  
She gasped at the sight of Tom lying on the bathroom's floor in a  
pool of blood. She quickly joined Chakotay who was already  
kneeling by Tom's side. His face was sickly grey. Blood was  
running down his month and nose.   
  
"Janeway to sickbay," she called. "Medical emergency! Three to  
transport immediately to sickbay."   
  
***  
  
Sickbay was quiet. Finally everybody was gone. Harry had taken a  
very distraught B'Elanna to her quarters. Janeway and Chakotay  
had left together, supporting each other. Even the Doctor had  
deactivated himself.   
  
Samantha Wildman put away the remaining medical instruments in  
their proper places before bringing a stool beside the main  
biobed. She sat, then forced herself to relax with even and  
steady breaths. Tom was lying peaceful. He was still unconscious  
and unaware of the frenzy that had prompted and followed his  
collapse. She gently reach for his hand. She massaged it in order  
to stimulate the blood flow into his cold fingers.  
  
It was just a few hours ago that she had been summoned by the  
EMH. She had barely walked in sickbay that she had joined he  
Captain and the Doctor to stabilize Tom's vitals. They had  
already healed his bleeding ulcer, from which he had lost a lot  
of blood, but he was still seriously dehydrated and anemic.  
  
"Mrs. Wildman, initiate a level 3 cellular scan," the Doctor had  
ordered her.   
  
"A level 3?" She wondered.   
  
"Doctor, what's wrong?" the captain asked.  
  
"I'm detecting some abnormal cells in Mr. Paris' blood," he  
explained.   
  
"What kind of cells?"  
  
It took a few seconds to Doctor to finish his scan and then look  
up at Janeway. "Leukemic cells."  
  
"Oh, Spirits!" Commander Chakotay's words still echoed in the now  
quiet room.   
Samantha put Tom's now warm hand under the blanket and took the  
other. Her only comfort was that she was not going to be the one  
to give the news to Tom. The Doctor had told her that it would be  
his duty to do so. Samantha looked towards the CMO's office and  
started to wonder just how hard the Doctor had taken the news  
himself. She got the distinct feeling that he was feeling guilty  
about something. When everything returned to normal, she would  
have to confront him.  
  
However, at that moment in time, she focused all of her energy on  
her sick friend and prayed to all the forces that held the  
universe together to keep watch over him.  
  
"Computer,'Wildman music selection three', low", she told the  
computer when the silence grew too much for her.  
  
"Oh, Spirits....."   
  
***  
  
End of part 1.  
  
Don't worry it's not over yet. Look out for the second part:  
Corridor: "The Secret Past".  
  
BIG THANKS to Amanda B. for the research she did on cancer for us  
and to PJ in NH for Beta reading this story.  
  
We need feed back at Synbou@hotmail.com.  
Don't be shy.  
Isabelle S. and Louise B. (A.k.A Synbou)  
  
Copyrights @ January 1999 


	2. The Secret Past

AUTHOR'S NOTE: March 99, it has been a year since Louise and I  
wrote *Neoplasm* following the death of my friend Kathy of breast  
cancer. It seems to us that the story has taken on a life of it own,   
touching many in the process. We sought understanding. It prompt  
us to do more research and, especially, to write more.  
Isabelle S.  
  
DISCLAIMER: Voyager's crew are Paramount's, but the story, the  
Amnesty, and unrelated characters are Synbou's. This is a P/T story  
rated PG. Set after 30 Days. It is 2/3 of the Corridor series.   
  
WARNING: READ THE PRIOR STORIES! You can find them  
on the Synbou's Fan Fiction Web page at:  
http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Shire/7454/  
Oh, and by the way, expect again lots of anguish...   
  
Prior stories in the *Neoplasm Universe*.  
1) Neoplasm  
2) In The Dark  
3) Decytologenesis  
4) Corridor: The Secret Pain.  
  
SYNOPSIS: Tom's cancer is back less than two years into his  
remission. Him and his friends have to cope with this shock fact as  
Voyager continues toward her meeting point with the Amnesty.  
  
Corridor: the Secret Past  
By Synbou  
synbou@hotmail.com  
  
***  
  
Faith had tricked them  
  
The Enemy was back. It was back sooner than expected.  
  
They had never been presumptuous enough to believe that they had  
won the battle once and for all. History had taught them otherwise.   
However, life had settled into its desirable comfortable normality  
and the Enemy had slowly faded away from the daily concerns. It  
had become a dark phantom of the past, an uncertain threat for the  
future. Now, that phantom had returned to haunt them.   
  
Before being completely eradicated, the Enemy had retreated. It  
had gone into hiding where it could rebuilt its strengths, readying  
itself to attack at the first sign of weakness. It had taken them by  
surprise, unguarded, unprepared. The assault had been quick,  
efficient, and devastating, recreating deep and painful wounds.   
  
***  
  
B'Elanna slowly walked out sickbay, then accelerated her pace as  
soon as she had cleared the doors. The tears that she had been  
holding back were threatening to break into the open, and B'Elanna  
Torres was not going to cry and rage in one of Voyager's hallways.   
  
She had just spent the last few hours holding Tom's hand through  
the first, of what seamed like an endless series of chemotherapy.  
Her mouth was suddenly dry and she felt painful lump in her throat.  
Keeping her anger at bay and trying to hold a strong front had  
stretched her strength to the limit.   
  
She could not hold back anymore. It hurt to much as she asked  
herself for the thousandth time: Why?  
  
Why was the cancer back?  
Why now of all times?  
Why Tom?  
  
Why had she not see this coming? She was the closest to him. They  
had spent almost all of their free time together. She should have  
seen that he was not well sooner. Why did the doctor not check on  
him when Tom went to sickbay? And why did the Captain have to  
confine him to the brig for a whole month? Was demoting him not  
enough?   
  
"Mess Hall," called Harry as they entered the turbolift.  
  
B'Elanna glared at him. She had forgotten that he had been there  
too.   
  
"We should get something to eat," he explained.  
  
"I'm not hungry," she grumbled.  
  
"You need to eat," Harry said gently.  
  
"Deck six," B'Elanna ordered the computer.  
  
The turbolift came to a halt and B'Elanna stepped off, heading in  
the direction of Tom's quarters.   
  
"B'Elanna, you shouldn't go there. Please come with me. Let's go to  
the Mess Hall," Harry insisted.  
  
She turned towards him, her fury striking out like an angry viper.  
For a second Harry thought she was going to hit him. He had   
misunderstood her silence as pain and guilt, not anger.  
  
"Mind your own business!" she shouted at him, after a second. "I  
don't want ANY food! Just leave me alone."  
  
Harry took a step back. He did not know what to do else. He felt  
so useless, so ignorant. Tom would know what to do. Tom always  
knew what to do. But, his friend was in sickbay now, fighting for  
his life.   
  
Harry felt like curling up into a small ball under the covers of his  
bed and never coming out. But that was not how a Starfleet's  
officer would conduct himself, was it? However, being Starfleet did  
not help much at the moment. It did not tell him how to help  
B'Elanna, or Tom. And he wanted to help so much. He wanted to  
make everything better, but he was the less capable of doing so. He  
could not even help B'Elanna.  
  
Torres, for her part, did not notice Harry's musing. She had simply  
turned around and walked into her lover's quarters. Nobody had  
been there since they had found him almost 24 hours before.   
  
She strolled into the bathroom where Tom's unconscious body had  
been found. The automatic cleaning systems of the ship had  
removed the blood, but a faint stain could still be seen.  
  
B'Elanna felt so mad.   
  
Why in the hell was the universe doing this to her again? How dare  
they threaten to take Tom away from her again? She could fell her  
blood boil in her ears. She walked back into the main room and  
took hold of the first largish object that was with in her grasp and  
hurled it through the room and against the wall.   
  
The coffee table shattered into a thousand pieces, each a piece of  
her soul. She crumbled to the ground. All of her energy was gone.  
All of her fight was gone. Tears came to her eyes. All she had the  
energy to do was cry.  
  
Harry came over and placed an arm around her shoulders and  
started to cry too.   
  
***  
  
It was a place that he had not visited in a long time. A place that  
was not his. A place that he had discovered with a mix of surprise  
and delight. In the past, he had found many answers there. Again,  
seeking understanding, he had returned to the Winter Garden.   
  
It was as peaceful as he remembered it. Although, it was somewhat  
colder and less bright under the winter sun. Leaving footsteps in the  
crisp white snow behind him, Chakotay made his way to the bench  
facing the icy pond. Slowly, he sat down. The breeze was playing  
with the thin branches of the tall bare threes. Horses of snow were  
dancing in the air, disappearing over the hillside.   
  
*Now, the past has caught up with you and you can't hide or ignore  
it anymore,* Chakotay remembered telling Tom.  
  
His friend had sighed heavily.  
  
*More than you could ever know,* Tom had replied with another  
sigh. *I'm just so tired...*  
  
A long soft pitiful meow caught Chakotay's attention.   
  
The blue-grey Himalayan cat, he believed was Tom's animal guide  
had joined him. Gently, Chakotay picked up the cat and let it rest  
on his lap. He noticed, as in his dreams, that the cat was in a bad  
shape. He was boney. Its once shinny thick pelt was thin, dull and  
matted. Its eyes, usually so blue, were a pale shade of grey.   
Like Tom, the cat was sick.  
  
*I'm concerned about you, Tom,* Chakotay had admitted to the  
younger man. *I have been for quite some time, now. You need to  
take better care of yourself. I know you're worried about your  
friends and all of us, but getting sick over this won't help.*  
  
*What do you want me to tell you, Chakotay?* Tom had asked. *I  
have a bad feeling. I'm just so damn afraid that something will go  
wrong....*  
  
Things had started to go wrong, indeed. Tom had felt it. But like to  
the rest of them, the truth had been too inconceivable. Even if the  
telltale signs of the cancer were manifesting themselves, it was a  
poor excuse. All of them should have seen the signs for what they  
were.  
  
Why didn't I know? Chakotay though to himself. Then he looked  
down at the cat and asked:  
  
"Did Tom know?"   
  
The cat lifted up its head and meowed softly.  
  
"If he knew, he'd never admit it, right?"  
  
Again, the cat just meowed what sounded like a 'yes'. Its head  
rested back on Chakotay's lap.  
  
"We will take good care of Tom," he promised.  
  
The cat placed a wide paw on Chakotay's hand and let out a low  
and long meow, that too him sounded a lot like a 'I know.' Then the  
Himalayan jumped onto the ground and after looking at Chakotay  
over its shoulder one last time, it set off towards the direction of  
Tom's house.  
  
"Your right, Puss, go back to Tom now. He needs you."  
  
***  
  
Captain Kathryn Janeway dismissed the senior staff at the end of  
their meeting and found herself alone in the big room. The meeting  
had been brief and to the point. There had been no fussing, no   
chatting. The atmosphere had been solemn. The cause of Tom  
Paris' absence weighed heavily on everyone's mind. Almost like two  
months before. Although this time, anger and disappointment were  
not the feelings that were tormenting her. This time it was pain,  
sadness, and guilt.  
  
A padd in one hand, she reached for her coffee cup and leaned back  
in her seat. She read the first two lines, then sight. Of all padds she  
had to review, she had to pick the one containing the last updates  
regarding the Corridor project.   
  
Her mind wondered.  
  
Had it already been over three weeks since Tom had found out that  
Voyager had been contacted by the crew of the Amnesty? His  
former colleagues from the Silver-Seas Foundation had apparently  
pulled together the resources to meet with them. They were hoping  
to bring Voyager and her crew home via the Corridor. Again,  
everyone's expectations and hopes were running high.   
  
Tom had dove head first into the project from the very beginning.  
He, better than anyone, knew what was coming. His knowledge of  
the Corridor was in fact quite impressive. But there had been more  
to it than that. The project had allowed him to not think about his  
incarceration.   
  
Tom had walked out of the brig more affected than he wanted to  
let on. More than he knew himself.  
  
The sight of Tom lying on the bathroom floor in a pool of blood  
was still a vivid memory in her mind. It had shaken her and scared  
her. What had come next, she had been even less prepared for.   
  
*I'm detecting abnormal cells in Mr. Paris's blood,* the Doctor had  
said.  
  
*What kind of cells?* she had asked fearing the answer.   
  
*Leukemic cells,* had been the Doctor solemn reply.  
  
*Oh Spirits...,* Chakotay had breathed.  
  
At that point Kathryn's barriers broke down. Tears escaped her  
grip, they started to run down freely as her mind kept on going like  
a dull knife in a deep wound.   
  
Tom's cancer was back not even two years into his remission.  
Already at that point, a good portion of his bone marrow had been  
destroyed by the blast of an acute nonlymphocytic leukemia which  
could mean death in a matter of weeks   
  
If they had only caught it earlier? Just a few weeks earlier. Had the  
Doctor not told them that early detection had made the difference  
the last time Tom had faced cancer?   
  
Why had she confined him for so long? A week would have been  
enough. Her point would have been made. She would not have lost  
her authority on the crew? And since when did she have to be so  
authoritative? Since when was she taking this so personally?  
Everyone on board were professionals, they would follow her lead,  
she did not need to set an example. Since when had she started to  
feel this insecure? Since the hot flashes?  
  
The worse was that she had taken it out on Tom. She could not  
dismiss what he has done. After all, he had broken the prime  
directive, had disobeyed her direct order, and almost started a war  
with an alien race. But in retrospective, demoting him should have  
been enough. His principles had been admirable. Why had she been  
such a bitch toward someone she knew was so fragile both  
physically and emotionally? She had not used command presence,  
she had abused it.  
  
Now, because of her, her best pilot was in sickbay being poisoned  
by chemicals that might just save him. But that could kill him too,  
along with the disease.  
  
Loud sobs escaped her. Her troat was hurting, the muscles were so  
tight. Between ragged breaths and sobs and tears, all she could  
whisper, over and over again was:  
  
"I'm so sorry, Tom. So sorry."  
  
***  
  
Harry felt pretty stupid, standing there in the middle of sickbay. He  
knew that there was nothing he could do there, still that's where he   
had headed the minute his shift had ended.   
  
The EMH was working around Tom's bed behind a force field.  
Harry could tell that Tom's sleep had been induced just by the  
stillness of his body. He knew from time past with his best friend on  
away missions, while going camping during shore leave, and from  
Tom's all too frequent stays in sickbay, that the man was a restless  
sleeper who tossed and turned during the four or five hours he  
could manage to get. These days, Tom was sleeping nearly sixteen  
hours a day, trying to cope the best he could with his illness.  
  
The EMH crossed through the force field and barely looked at  
Harry as he went to put his tricorder on a tray.   
  
"Doctor, how is he?" Harry asked.  
  
"Sleeping," the Holodoc replied in a dryly tone that was not  
surprising Harry anymore.  
  
"That I can tell," he retorted.   
  
Something was bothering the Doctor. It had to do with Tom and it  
was more than just due to the return of his friend's cancer. The  
EMH looked like a guilty man and he was passing his frustrations  
on to the rest of them. Well, Harry thought, he had better to get  
himself together before he, or B'Elanna, put their threat to  
execution and highjack his program.   
  
"Mr. Paris' condition is stable. The chemotherapy is giving him   
breathing problems, but nothing major. The treatments are working  
as expected. They are slowly destroying the cancerous cells,"  
reported the Doctor.  
  
"Can I see him?"  
  
"Not at the present, Ensign. Mr. Paris' immune system is extremely  
weak and would be defenceless against any bacteria or virus that  
you might be carrying."   
  
On that, the EMH left for his office leaving Harry standing there  
looking at his friend and feeling even more helpless.   
  
"Harry," came Samantha Wildman's soft voice. "Why don't you put  
on a gown, sterilize yourself, and go sit by Tom for a while? He'll  
need a friend when he'll wake up."  
  
"But the Doctor just told me ...."  
  
"Leave the Doctor to me," she interrupted him. "Giving Tom  
comfort and support is the best way to help him right now."   
  
They exchanged a small smile and Harry accepted her offer. As he  
prepared himself, she was the one who stood there contemplatively.  
  
Poor Harry, she thought, his distraught was so obvious. He seemed  
so overpowered by the whole situation. Samantha's heart went to  
him. It also went out to B'Elanna who was coping with the fear of  
losing yet again someone she loved, the best she knew how, with  
anger. At least, she was allowing herself to feel and expressing her  
anger. At the moment, it was more than understandable, it was  
healthy. The Captain, on her end, had retreated into her guilt which  
added a new strain on her relationship with Tom.   
  
Bless the Commander for his support, she told herself. So far, he  
was the only one who had taken enough distance from the situation  
to be able to make a difference. The commander had been there for  
Tom several times to provide him support as he was waking up.  
Samantha also knew that Chakotay was keeping an eye on  
B'Elanna, Harry, and the Captain. He had made himself available  
to her as well when she had broken into tears the day before.  
  
Like Harry, Samantha felt overpowered by the situation, too. She  
was not the Doctor's regular medical assistant, Tom was. She was  
trained to give first aid during emergencies when Tom and the  
Doctor needed an extra-hand, but she did not know all that there  
was to know about cancer. Most of all, she was not prepared to  
deal with a possible terminal ill patient, to see a friend slowly fade  
away in pain.   
  
And there was this problem with the Doctor which she was going  
to address just about now. Since Tom's admittance to sickbay three  
days before, the EMH had became quite overprotective of his  
patient. He was irritable and down right condescending with the  
rest of them. It was isolating Tom even more in the process.   
  
Samantha Wildman entered into the Doctor's office without  
invitation. Putting her hands on the desk to draw his attention  
on herself.   
  
"What happened between you and Tom?" she asked on a tone that  
would be met with an explanation.  
  
The Doctor first looked at her surprised, then looked away clearly  
ashamed. She had successfully corner him, so that he could not flee  
or dismiss her.   
  
"I..." His voice cracked. "Where to begin?"  
  
Samantha said nothing. She stood her ground as she saw him  
struggle with himself.  
  
"The day Mr. Paris collapsed. He had walked into sickbay. I  
mentioned that we didn't see him around here very often these days.  
I asked him if he had a boo-boo."  
  
"A boo-boo?" Samantha repeated.  
  
"A joke between him and I, so I thought. He told me that he had a  
bad headache that just wouldn't go away and I asked him if had hit  
his head again"  
  
He paused for a moment, hesitant.  
  
"Go on."  
  
"He hadn't. Well then, I said. Why don't you sit on the biobed and  
I'll take a look at that boo-boo of yours as soon as I'm done with  
this cell culture. 'You know what? Forget it. I'll manage', he told  
me. That's when I realized that something was wrong."  
  
"Oh, Doctor," Samantha breathed. "We really have to keep  
working on your social's skills."  
  
"I realized that too. I apologized to him, but it was to late. He was  
already halfway out of the door. I told myself that if it was really  
bad that he would come back. I just didn't think he would come  
back the way he did. I could have prevented that," he finished  
looking away and ashamed.  
  
Samantha sighed in dismay. She finally decided to sit in the chair  
facing the Doctor's desk.   
  
"Yes, you could have," she said. "And Tom... Tom should have  
stayed."  
  
"I could have detected his cancer much more earlier."  
  
The Doctor leaned back in his chair.  
  
"When he got hurt in the brig. He told me he wasn't feeling well.  
That I should bring him to sickbay and pass a few scans on him.  
At the time I thought he was thinking of a way to get out of the  
brig. If I had listened to him, as a good physician would have, I  
could have, *should have*, detected his cancer earlier. It would  
have been much more simple."  
  
"Don't be so hard on yourself," she told him. "That whole situation  
was complicated enough at it was. We would still be at lost to as   
what's causing Tom's leukemia."  
  
The EMH looked at the data on his computer screen.   
  
"I'm starting to think that we're looking in the wrong places," he  
said after a prolonged silence.  
  
"How so?"  
  
"Tom's doctors thought that his cancer was due to his Kimirian  
genetic heritage, but all the research done so far to identify a  
cancerous gene had turned out nothing."  
  
"I knew Tom had lived on Kimira for many years and that Loreena  
had been from Port-Ayalexis, but I didn't know Tom had a Kimirian  
heritage."  
  
"His mother is from there as well. Although, she moved to Earth  
before her wedding with Tom's father. Kimira is a Federation  
Colony. As well as on Earth, there has been there a lot of  
interspecies marriages, but Tom is fully human. He doesn't seem to  
have any recessive gene."  
  
"Wouldn't his previous bone marrow transplants and the  
Decytologenis compensate for that?" she offered.  
  
"Technically no. He hasn't been genetically altered. Or, has he?"  
  
***  
  
Tom started to get restless in his sleep, which told Harry that  
his friend was slowly waking up. Harry took Tom's cold hand,  
careful not to touch his blue and black flaking finger nails. He  
remembered how much Tom hated this particular side effect of  
chemotherapy. It was painful and limited his dexterity at the helm.  
Dermal regeneration of the fingertip would only be possible after all  
the poison had been purged from his body.  
  
*After the transplant, you'll be okay, right?* Harry had asked Tom  
after the older man had told him of the return of his leukemia  
almost two years before.  
  
*Well . . . If it goes back in remission, yeah*  
  
*What about the gene? Do you think the Doctor can find it?*  
Harry had asked hopefully.  
  
*I don't know. I don't have any unrealistic expectations about that  
anymore. Right now, I would settle for a remission.*   
  
Tom wish had been granted back then. His cancer had gone into  
remission, but for such a short time. The bone marrow transplant  
had been successful, but the cancerous gene had not been found.  
The Doctor still did not know what was causing the leukemia and  
doubted that another bone marrow would hold.   
  
Tom moaned under his shallow breaths which increased as he  
became aware of his body and its discomfort.  
  
"I'm here, Tom," Harry reassured him. "Try to relax."  
  
"Harry?" Tom croaked just above a whisper.  
  
Tom stiffen with pain and Harry became anxious.  
  
"I'll get the Doctor," he told him.  
  
"Harry!" Tom tried to get a grip of his friend's hand. "Don't leave  
me."  
  
"I'm not leaving you. Don't worry. You're my best friend and I'll  
stay with you as long as you want me to. Okay?"  
  
"Okay... Just don't leave me."  
  
With one hand, Harry brushed Tom's forehead. His skin was so pale  
due to anemia, it was scary.  
  
"I'm staying right here," he assured Tom. "I'm not going anywhere."  
I just wish I could do more, he thought.  
  
***  
  
Tom let his padd fall on the coach beside him. He had finally  
returned to his quarters two days earlier after a six-day stay in  
sickbay. Now, he was feeling restless. He had tried to read, listen to  
some music and relax, look over the latest up-dates on the Corridor  
project, but nothing seemed interesting enough to hold his  
attention. If he had not felt so weak, he would have paced long  
enough to make a hole in the carpet. If the Doctor had not confined  
him to his quarters, he could have gone to the holodeck. Hell, if he  
did not have cancer he just would not be stuck in his quarters.   
Dammit anyway.   
  
Regardless of the treatments with their nasty side effects and the  
symptoms of the disease, Tom still had a hard time convincing  
himself that he had cancer... again. The cognitive self knew that he  
had leukemia. But his emotional self could not accept that fact. It  
had been less than two years since his last battle with the disease.  
His remissions had always lasted over five years. It just did not add  
up. Quite frankly, Tom did not want to believe that he was sick  
and, in moments like these, he chose not to. So, he picked his padd  
back up and concentrated on his reading until the chime of his door  
ran.   
  
At his invitation to come in, Commander Chakotay walked in the  
room. He nodded to Tom before impulsively looking around.  
  
"You're alone?" his question was more of an observation of the  
apparent absence of B'Elanna and Harry.  
  
"Yeah, unbelievable, isn't it?" Tom replied with a smirk. "It took a  
lot of grumbling on my part, but they finally left me on my own.  
You think I'll survive? Or, have they sent you to babysit me?"  
  
Chakotay chuckled despite himself.  
  
"It's that bad, huh?" he asked.  
  
Tom gave him an if-you-only-knew expression.  
  
'Don't worry," the Commander assured him. "I'm not here to babysit  
you. I have two issues regarding the Corridor project that I want to  
go over with you."  
  
"Oh, good," Tom said pleasantly. "Have a seat, then."  
  
"Well, the other pilots and I finished the last simulations you gave  
us. Here are the results," he began lending a padd to the Chief Pilot.  
"Riding the over-rails, like you say, it's strange. It really has nothing  
to do with piloting in normal space. It kind of remind me of driving  
a boat on water, having to compensate for the waves. We had a  
little more difficulty when it came to change Inter-layer."  
  
"The wave got bigger," Tom said.  
  
"You could say that," Chakotay agreed. "Still, there were no major  
catastrophes."   
  
"Glad to hear it. You're ready to up the ante a bit?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
"I put the latest simulations in the computer, already. Just look it  
up. They are in consecutive order."  
  
"You've been busy," Chakotay commented.  
  
"Have to, the time is flying by." Tom replied.  
  
Chakotay wondered for a second as to what Tom had been  
referring to: the fact that they would soon meet with the Amnesty,  
or the fact that, due to his leukemia, Tom's future had become so  
uncertain.  
  
Surely, he was seeing himself with all them when they would  
rendezvous with the Silver-Sea Foundation's flag ship, Chakotay  
told himself.  
  
"As for my second objective," the Commander finally said. "I made  
a draft of the personnel schedule on a four-hour rotation, like you  
asked. It's going to be a little tight in certain departments, but it's  
manageable."  
  
"It's going to take some getting use to, like with everything else,"  
Tom granted. He looked over the data that Chakotay had presented  
to him. "I don't see much problem with it," he said after a moment.  
"I'd like for people to start on this schedule at least a week before  
you enter into the Corridor."  
  
This time, Chakotay felt his mouth go dry, but manage to keep his  
voice neutral as he pointed out.   
  
"You said 'you', not 'we'."  
  
"I did?" Tom asked sincerely surprised.  
  
Chakotay flashed him a grin in order to hide his sadness.  
  
"You're still coming back to the Alpha Quadrant with us, are you?"  
  
"Of course, I am" Tom replied returning the smile, but it did not  
really come across.  
  
An uneasy silence fell between the two men.  
  
"Tom, can I ask how you're doing?"  
  
"How I'm doing? I don't know. How do you think I'm doing?" he  
asked a bit defiantly. But, it did not cut it with the Commander who  
stayed silent. "You're sure you want to hear about this? Because, I  
feel like hell and I have a long list of complaints."   
  
"You just started, you might as well continue," Chakotay  
encouraged him.  
  
Tom gave him a sideway look. He had heard that one before.  
  
"'How I'm Doing' by Thomas Eugene Paris... I don't know. I feel  
like doing something one minute, and doing nothing the next. I see  
all there's to do to prepare the crew to the Corridor, and... I'm not  
up for the challenge. It's REALLY frustrating."  
  
If it would not been so tiring, he would have got up and walk  
around. He sighed.  
  
"Being stuck in here aggravates me like hell. But then again, I don't  
have the strength to go anywhere anyway. The pain killers that Doc  
gives me work, at least for now, but the chemo and the anemia  
makes me too tired. When I feel like I can go somewhere, I have  
B'Elanna and Harry to remind me that Doc confined me to quarters  
and ordered me to rest. I might as well go back to the brig," he  
joked, which made Chakotay smile.  
  
"I guess you'll have to be patient," Chakotay said with empathy.  
"Some days are bound to be better than others."  
  
"I know. Still..." He shrugged. "The first time I had cancer. I had it  
for what three-four weeks. I was still going to my classes at the  
Academy and hanging out with my friends. The second time, I had  
it for about five months. I was not stuck in a room. I could go on  
with a 'normal' life the best I could. I was working part-time for the  
Foundation, I was teaching at the University in Port-Ayalexis.  
We..." His voice cracked. "We were getting ready for Solenn's  
birth... And Sayana... My little girls... I miss my little girls so much.  
They are growing up without their parents. How could I let that  
happen?"  
  
Tears tumbled down his pale cheeks.   
  
"I'm scared," he whispered. "I don't know how I'm going to make it  
this time."   
  
***  
  
B'Elanna and Harry had joined Tom in sickbay. The Doctor had just  
finished another blood transfusion in order to rise Tom's iron level  
and counteract his breathing problems due to the anemia.  
  
"You're ready to go?" asked Harry.  
  
"Always ready to walk out of here," Tom replied. "Nothing  
personal, Doc."  
  
The Holodoc shrugged.  
  
"Don't worry, Mr. Paris. I got used to it."  
  
"Well, before we leave," B'Elanna said. "We have something for  
you."  
  
She gave a little box wrapped in a blue shining paper with a white  
ribbon. Tom smiled at the unexpected gift. He slowly unwrapped  
the present, careful that his fingernails did not come in contact with  
the edge of the paper. He opened the box and looked up at his  
friends with surprised.  
  
"A personal force-field emitter?"  
  
"It is as strong as the bio force-field around the surgical bay,"  
Harry explained. "With that, you'll able to go anywhere on the ship  
without worrying about viruses or bacteria."  
  
"Can it carry me too?" Tom inquired.  
  
"Well, no. It doesn't have an anti-gravity." Harry continued  
seriously. "But, if you want it. I'm sure we can come up with  
something."  
  
"Harry... I was joking. I'm not up for the wheelchair yet."  
  
"Sorry," the younger man said a little embarrassed.  
  
"How about we get out of here and put your force-field to the  
test?" Tom said  
  
"How about we go the holodeck?" B'Elanna suggested. "There's a  
new program that we want to show you. Neelix changed the resort  
around again."  
  
"Sounds good to me," Tom replied enthusiastically.   
  
***  
  
Tom was walking from sickbay to the Astrometric Lab. It had  
become a frequent journey in the last week. It was as frequent as  
wearing the force field emitter that isolated him form the rest of the  
universe around him. He was now back on restrictive duty. The  
captain had considerably reduced his bridge shifts so that he could  
concentrate on the upcoming trip into the Corridor, get the rest he  
needed, and receive the treatments that were keeping him alive.  
  
He had about an hour and a half before the side effects of the drugs  
that the Doctor had just put into his system manifested themselves.  
Tom decided to take full advantage of all the time he had to work  
on getting Voyager ready for the trip home. That last statement was  
still hard to believe at times.   
  
Tom entered the Astrometric Lab. Seven was already waiting with  
the latest projections on the Corridor project. Tom liked working  
with Seven in a way he had never thought he would. Her lack of  
interest for his state of health was refreshing in compare to the rest  
of the crew who were always tiptoeing around him. Always asking  
how he was doing, suggesting that he should take a break, get some  
rest, get some food, go and see the doctor...   
  
Tom knew when he had to lay down. He knew when he felt like  
eating. And the Doctor always made sure he did not forget his  
appointments. Tom Paris did not need anybody else to do so! Seven  
treated him like a normal human being, well at least, like she treated  
everybody else that is.   
  
"Hi, Seven," Tom greeted.  
  
"Ensign Paris," She acknowledge.  
  
"What's today's news?" he asked putting all of his thoughts behind  
him.  
  
"Shield adjustments are on schedule. Lt. Torres was having some  
trouble with some of the modulations. They have been resolved. "  
  
Tom listened to her long narration on the state of readiness of the  
ship, while making mental notes of what was still left to do. When  
he was up to it, he would have to get the pilots together to practice  
the latest simulations he had created. He still had to design a few  
more so that they would be able to cope with all the unique  
situations of the Corridor.   
  
"Anything from the communication array?" he asked hopefully.  
  
"Nothing as yet," Seven replied. "The last message was received at  
1920 hours yesterday. There is still a six-week delay between the  
date they are sent and the time we receive them."  
  
"Well, six weeks is better than the original four months," Tom  
commented. "Still, I wish we could manage to have a more  
coherent conversation."  
  
"We are broadcasting on the Amnesty's carrier wave. It is the most  
efficient."  
  
"It's still not fast enough," Tom said as he brought up the different  
carrier wave they could use to broadcast both through normal space  
and the Corridor. As he carefully examined the different inter-layers  
of the Corridor and their respected current. He consulted the  
information he had gathered over the years. He sighed. "I only see  
one solution to that problem," he said after awhile.  
  
***  
  
"You want to do what?!" Captain Janeway asked in disbelief.  
  
"I want to take the Delta Flyer into the Corridor," repeated Tom  
calm and serious.  
  
They were in her ready room. She was sitting at her desk. Her back  
straight, as captainish as one could be. Tom was sitting in one of  
the chairs facing her. He did not have the energy to sit up as  
straight as her. These days he had only the energy to focus on one  
thing at the time, and at that moment it was in his arguing.  
Chakotay stood behind Tom, as if he wanted to place a hand on the  
younger man's shoulder to transmit energy to him.  
  
"Tom, you are in no condition to take a ship into the Corridor," she  
pointed out.  
  
"Captain, I realize that I'm not in top shape. But because of it, we  
have lost considerable time. At this rate we will never be ready to  
enter the corridor when the Amnesty gets here." Tom had said this  
in one breath, before the Captain interrupted.  
  
"But we are on schedule," she argued as soon as she could.   
  
"The modifications to Voyager structural integrity and to the  
impulse and warp engines might be going along as planned, but the  
crew has to be more prepare for it." And after a second hesitation,  
as if he was admitting something to himself: "I'm not ready."  
  
This silenced the Captain for a moment. Chakotay finally placed  
his hand on Tom's shoulder to offer some support. He could tell  
that Tom had started to tire.   
  
"The thing is, I need help. I can't do it alone anymore." That had  
been as hard to admit as to the others to hear. Somehow, it was as  
if he was admitting to defeat.   
  
"You are hardly alone..." said Janeway a little shaken. "We can  
help."  
  
"Captain, will all due respect, you don't have any idea of what is  
coming. The Corridor is an efficient way to travel over relatively  
short distances, but when it comes to a trip as long as the one we  
are about to embark on, it can be quite hard on both the ships and  
the crews. If I thought that it would be a piece a cake I would have  
suggested the damn thing five years ago."   
  
"You already made that clear. But I still don't see why you want to  
take the Delta Flyer into the Corridor."   
  
"I need the help of an experienced crew. By going into the Corridor  
with the Delta Flyer, I will be able to contact the Amnesty and have  
a few of the crew sent ahead to help me prepare Voyager. They  
could be here in a few days by using a smaller craft."  
  
She just sat there looking at him, not changing her position. She did  
not say a word, but both Tom and Chakotay could read her  
expression.  
  
Chakotay could tell that Tom was getting really tired. His shoulders  
had slumped over a bit more. His head seamed a bit too heavy.  
  
"Who would you like me to accompany you on the Flyer?" asked  
the Commander.  
  
"You and Seven," Tom replied looking back at him. "The  
experience would be even more useful for you since you're most  
likely to be the one who is going to enter Voyager into the  
Corridor."  
  
Chakotay gave him a sympathetic smile.   
  
"The Captain and I will discuss the matter and we'll get back to  
you, all right?"  
  
Tom shrugged.  
  
"I suppose so," he replied getting up, slowly.   
  
"How about you ask Harry to walk you back to your quarters?"  
Chakotay proposed on a neutral tone, as to not offend, as he  
accompanied Tom to the door.   
  
"No, I can make it on my own. Thank you"  
  
Tom left and when the doors closed Chakotay turned toward the  
Captain. For a long minute, they did not say a word. The silence  
became heavy and Janeway broke it by saying:  
  
"I can't let him do this."   
  
"And why not?"  
  
"You just saw him. He's so sick... If the Corridor is half as bad as  
he says, there is no way he can successfully accomplish this mission.  
He could even get killed in the process," she was firmly set in her  
opinion.   
  
"Captain, I disagree, I think Tom can still do this, if we help him.   
But, I do agree that he may not have long. Preparing a ship for an  
endeavor of this type is a lot a work for a healthy person. I  
understand why Tom has decided to not do it alone."  
  
"But we can help," argued the Captain.  
  
"Not in the way Tom needs us to. I don't have the faintest idea of  
what the Corridor holds. Do you?"  
  
"No," Janeway admitted.  
  
"We need to contact these people." Chakotay could see that his  
captain was still not convinced, so he added: "This may be the only  
time Tom might see his friends. Let's face it, Kathryn. He might not  
make it to next month, heck he might not make it to next week. I  
would rather see him die in the Corridor knowing that he has done  
all he could to get us home, than in his quarters thinking that he  
could have done more. It is important to him Think about it,  
Kathryn. Put yourself in his place for a few seconds."   
  
She looked away from him. Her gaze scanned the room, then with a  
sigh of resignation she said:  
  
"Okay, but I want the Doctor to go as well," She added the end of  
the sentence rapidly, as if by doing so, she was not completely  
capitulating to the situation.   
  
"I had planed on doing so," Chakotay acknowledged. "I'll go and  
ask Tom when he wants to leave." Before exiting the ready room,  
he looked back at her pensively. "Kathryn, when Tom had cancer  
the last time, do you remember telling me that even if you were  
the captain that you intended to give him as much support as you  
could? That you would prove him wrong?"   
  
She looked up at him in mute surprise. Chakotay knew that he had  
hit a nerve.  
  
*I'll prove him wrong,* she recalled  
  
*Prove him wrong?* had echoed Chakotay puzzled.  
  
She had sighed again. She had done that often that day. *The other  
day, he told me it was strange to have his Captain around like this.  
That was just not the way he had been raised -- for that matter,  
both of us. We are both children of admirals. We have to follow  
the hierarchy, honor the chain of command, and not derogate from  
protocol. Never get close or emotional, we are after all 'Starfleet  
officers'.* She had gave a strange emphasis on the her last sentence.   
  
Something, in the conversation she had with Tom, had hurt her.   
The truth.   
  
*But, this crew is not functioning under normal circumstances,* she  
had continued. *We can only count on each other. Tom is not only  
my junior officer, he's my friend, and is part of this family. How did  
you refer to him once . . . as 'my personal reclamation project?'   
You are right, I have a soft spot for him. He came such long way  
since he first walked on this ship. I'm going to prove to him that a  
family can stick together in sickness 'and' in health.*  
  
"Can you still prove him wrong before it's too late, Kathryn?" asked  
Chakotay.  
  
***  
  
Kathryn had tossed and turned all night. Sleep had eluded her as  
she had desperately tried to flee from the truth of Chakotay's  
words. She had often wondered why Tom had never sought the  
support of his parents during his first two battles with cancer. He  
had never even told them about the disease. Oh, she understood  
why and admired that, the first time he had cancer he wanted to  
spare his father more emotional pain.  
  
*I didn't want my father to know,* Tom had told her and the  
Doctor when they had asked why there were no mention of his  
leukemia in his medical file.  
  
Janeway's heart had sank.   
  
*I mean . . . Dad was still coping with having been captured and  
tortured by the Cardassians,* he had explained. *If he could pull  
through that, so could I. I was going to be fine, there was no reason  
for him to know. It would just had hurt him more.*  
  
But what about the second time? When he came so close to death  
that they resulted to a decytologenesis... Why not tell his parents   
then? Was the disagreement and disappointment between Tom and  
Owen so bad that the son could not turn to his father in a moment  
of need?  
  
*Tom, I know you and your father didn't get along too well. But,  
'tell me' that you weren't alone when you underwent this  
decytologenesis?*  
  
He had gave her a warm, sad smile that virtually had brought his  
face back to life.  
  
*No, Captain, I wasn't,* he had whispered. *I would never have  
had the courage or the strength to go through that if I would have   
been alone. There would have been no point in fighting in the   
first place. I miss those people so much right now.*  
  
She had looked more deeply into those clear blue eyes of his.  
  
*Well, you are not alone here either,* she had assured him.  
  
Tom had Loreena, their children, and friends' support back then.  
Now, he had B'Elanna's love, Harry, Chakotay, Nelix, and so many  
others's friendship. And he had hers.  
  
Kathryn would be damn if she was to ever let the whole incident  
regarding the Water Planet permanently ruin her relationship with  
Tom, like Caldik Prime had damaged the one between Tom and  
Owen. A broken relationship due to an incident which the true  
circumstances were yet to unfold. Tom and Owen might never  
have the chance to make amends, to salvage their relationship, to  
ever see each other again...  
  
She decided that this would not happen to her and Tom. She would  
prove to him that a family could stick together in sickness and in  
health, disagreement or not.   
  
***  
  
Kathryn ran into Chakotay outside Tom's quarters.  
  
"How's Tom?" she asked him in a low voice.  
  
He looked down at her with a sad expression.   
  
"Not so well," he whispered. "He has a fever, again. He is very  
disappointed that we have to put off our trip into the Corridor."  
  
"I can imagine. Oh, Chakotay, I disliked the idea so much when he  
brought it up to us. Now, I'm afraid that he won't be able to do it  
at all."  
  
"He will be able to go," Chakotay said with confidence. "Today is  
just one of those bad days that we have to expect."  
  
She simply nodded her understanding before asking:  
  
"And B'Elanna?"  
  
"Tired. Grumpy. It's days like these I'm happy she's not a full  
Klingon. She actually kicked me out."  
  
"Do you think I should go and talk to Tom anyway?"  
  
"Why not? You could order B'Elanna to get some rest," he  
suggested. "She really could use some."  
  
Again, Kathryn nodded as Chakotay departed for the bridge. She  
rang the chime. When the door opened, she was greeted by  
B'Elanna.   
  
"Captain," the younger woman acknowledged. "What brings you  
here?"  
  
B'Elanna was looking as tired as she sounded.  
  
"I wanted to have a word with Tom, if he is up to it, of course."  
  
"Well, he's resting," B'Elanna replied dryly.   
  
"You could use some rest as well," Janeway pointed out.  
"B'Elanna, you do look exhausted. Why don't you go rest for a  
while. I'll stay with Tom."  
  
"Tom is not feeling really good. You should come back later," she  
said not too tactfully.  
  
The half-Klingon was standing straight in front of her, like a wall  
between Tom and whoever dared to enter his quarters. She looked  
very determined to protect the man that she loved. Kathryn realized  
that it was unlikely that she would be able to convince her to leave  
Tom for a few hours.  
  
"B'Elanna," came Tom's soft whispered.   
  
The two women looked up toward the direction of his voice. Tom  
was leaning against the door frame of his room. Janeway quickly  
hid her shock and sadness at seeing him so sick again.  
  
"The Captain is right," he said. "You should go rest. You're going  
to make yourself sick if you keep going on like that." He grinned.  
"We don't want that."  
  
"I'm fine," she stated. "And, I can rest while you can."  
  
"Bee, I'll be okay," he assured her. "You can go. You need some  
time for yourself you know."  
  
Kathryn ached to read the sudden worry on B'Elanna's face. She  
approached her slowly and put a hand on her shoulder.  
  
"B'Elanna," she murmured. "I won't leave Tom alone. I'll take  
good care of him. So you can get some sleep."  
  
Their eyes met for a few seconds. Enough time for B'Elanna to  
communicate her unspoken fear. Kathryn took both of B'Elanna's  
hands and searched for her gaze.  
  
"He's going to be okay," she told her with conviction.  
  
B'Elanna looked back at Tom who encourage her with a smile.  
Then, the half-human let herself be led toward the door by Kathryn.  
  
"His medicine is on the bedside table," she informed the Captain.  
  
Kathryn nodded her acknowledgment. The door closed behind  
B'Elanna and she turned her attention to Tom. She could barely see  
him now. He had retired to his bedroom.  
  
She found him sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall. Despite  
the darkness, she could see the tears on his cheeks. Gently, she  
brushed them away from his pale warm cheeks. A sob escaped his  
lips and he looked at the floor.  
  
Kathryn sat beside him, just outside of his personal space.   
  
"It's all right," she murmured.  
  
"First Loreena... Now, B'Elanna. It so hard to see her hurting like  
that," he managed to say between sobs. "She's trying to be so  
strong.... I hate to see her like that... I... I hate putting her through  
that again... all of you."   
  
Kathryn moved in a little closer. She placed her arm around his  
shoulders. Tom, weak and tired, placed his head on her shoulder.   
They sat there for several long minutes. When Tom relaxed and his  
crying had subsided, Kathryn found that her cheeks were as wet as  
his.   
  
"I'm so sorry," he said a little ashamed of what he had just done.  
  
"It's not your fault." she sighted. "If someone should be sorry here,  
it is me."  
  
Tom went to say something when she stopped to take her breath,  
but she held up a finger indicating she wanted to keep on.   
  
"I'm sorry my decisions aggravated to your illness. I'm sorry that I  
wasn't there for you until now," She said in one breath. And after  
an other second she added: "I was too busy feeling guilty," she  
confessed a little ashamed.  
  
"There was nothing to be ashamed about," he said to comfort her.  
  
Kathryn shook her head.  
  
"Tom, I know that you better than anyone know how to make the  
difference between my duties as captain and the liberties I have as a  
friend." She sighed. "Remember that I'm here for you and I'll always  
be in either or both capacities."  
  
"I have always known that, Kathryn. Even when I was in the brig."  
he assured her, meeting her gaze.   
  
She put a hand on his forearm and gave him a warm smile.  
  
"How about we get you back to bed?" she suggested.   
  
"I am a little tired," Tom confessed.  
  
She helped him to his bed and checked him over with the tricorder  
the Doctor had left at Tom's bedside with the medication. Tom was  
asleep before she was done.  
  
"Sweet dreams," Kathryn said as she left the bedroom for the main  
one.   
  
***  
  
Tom exited his bedroom. He was dressed in civies: a blue sweater,  
black pans, and a matching blue baseball cap. The last item had  
become part of his wardrobe to hide the fact that he was losing  
most of his hair. In addition, his uniforms had gotten too big to be  
comfortable. There was no point in replicating one anyway. It was  
not like he was going to have to wear one anytime soon anyway.  
  
He found B'Elanna standing in front of the window. Her gaze had  
got lost in the vast field of stars on the other side. Today was THE  
day, he, along with Chakotay, Seven, and the Doctor, would finally  
make their trip to the Corridor. Tom knew B'Elanna was worried.  
He had confronted her the night before about it. But, obviously he  
had not been able to ease her fears.  
  
He came up behind her and took her in his embrace. It took her a  
few minutes before letting herself relax and take comfort in his  
closeness.   
  
"Bee, stop worrying so much," he told her softly. "Everything is  
going to be alright. I know what I'm doing."  
  
"I know," she simply said.  
  
"What is it, then?" Tom asked.  
  
She stayed silent for a moment, unwilling to share what was on her  
mind. He stayed quiet. There was no need to rush her. She would  
tell him eventually. Breathing the sent of her hair, he tightened his  
embrace around her and gave her a light kiss beside her right ear.   
  
"I just wish I could go with you," she confessed. "Why can't I go  
with you?"  
  
"I wish you could come too," he whispered. "But, with Doc tagging  
along, we won't have much space in the Flyer and I have the  
integrity of the away mission to think about. You know that."  
  
It was tearing Tom inside to see B'Elanna like this. At times, she  
could be so strong and at other times so fragile. It was like having  
two B'Elannas, just like when she had been split in half by the  
Vidiians. He hated what he was doing to her. He had already put  
her through so much the last two years. She had supported him  
when his leukemia had reappeared after the mess with Steph. She  
had stood beside him after the accident that had put him in a coma  
for a week and during Voyager's subsequent encounters with the  
spacial Anomalies. He did not even want to think about his time  
passed in the brig. All that time, she had been trying to deal with the  
loss of her Maquis friends back home. And him, where had he been  
there for her?   
  
Now, they both knew that his cancer was most likely to be terminal.  
He did not have much time left with her, he could feel it. Yet, he  
was about to take a risk by entering into the Corridor. But what  
else could he do? By undertaking such a long trip, the crew of the  
Amnesty was taking a great risk itself. Tom knew that the sooner  
Voyager would be ready to enter herself in the Corridor and meet  
with the Amnesty, the sooner everybody would be back home in the  
Alpha Quadrant. Helping things along was the least he could do.  
  
"I don't know what to tell you to help ease your fear anymore," he  
told B'Elanna. "Except that I'll be back to you very soon. I  
promise."  
  
She looked up at him. Her moist brown eyes met his clear blue.  
  
"I'm holding you to that promise, Paris" she told him forcefully   
  
***  
  
Tom and B'Elanna walked onto the bridge where the rest of the  
senior staff where waiting for them. Janeway noticed that Tom was  
not in uniform. She had come to expect it, but still it bothered her.  
  
"Captain," he said. "Can I have a word with you before the  
briefing?"  
  
"Of course, Tom," she replied inviting him to her ready room. As  
he sat on the couch she asked: "Do you want anything to drink?"  
  
"No, thank you," he declined.   
  
She could tell by Tom's demeanor that he was nervous and that he  
would be in need of her full attention. So, she passed the  
opportunity to order herself a cup of coffee. He was hesitant at  
looking directly at her. Whatever he had to say would not be easy  
for him.  
  
"The day before yesterday, when you came to my quarters, you  
told me that you would always be there for me both as a captain  
and a friend or either." He sighed. "Well, what I'm about to do will  
most likely hurt the captain, but I'm hoping that the friend won't  
take it personally."   
  
She did not have any idea of where he was going with this and by  
force of habit, she tended to anticipate the worst.   
  
"During that little... discussion, we had before your sentence to the  
brig," he continued casually. "We both agreed that the Foundation  
and Starfleet were not seeing eye to eye on a lot of things, nor  
playing with the same rule book..."  
  
He reached beneath the collar of his wool sweater and pulled out  
the silver necklace which was the symbol of the Foundation.   
  
"You know I never stopped working for the Foundation. Despite  
our latest differences, I will always be proud to serve under your   
command. You'll always be MY captain. But, since Starfleet doesn't  
have any jurisdiction in the Corridor, I believe that it would be  
easier for me to deal with this situation as a Foundation  
representative. It would lessen the possibility of conflicting  
interests."  
  
He presented his right hand to her which he slowly opened,  
revealing his ensign pin. He looked at her with sincere sadness and  
a timid smile.  
  
"I never thought this would be so hard," Tom told her as she picked  
up the pin. "I can't tell you that it hurts as much as if it was my  
lieutenant pins, but still..."  
  
She gave him a comforting smile.   
  
"I do understand your decision, Tom." she said putting a hand on  
his forearm. "Don't worry neither the captain or the friend is taking  
offence. The captain will just hold on to that pin, like she had been  
holding to the lieutenant one. Like you ever cared about rank  
anyway," she grinned.  
  
He grinned back.   
  
"Chakotay told me that you hate being called Mr. Paris and I know  
that you signed your Astrophysics' honor thesis and your  
dissertation for your in criminology under another name."  
  
"Among other things," he said with a mischievous smiled.  
  
Kathryn shook her head from side to side with a grin. But, she had  
to admit that she was very happy to see that particular smile of his  
surface back.  
  
"As a Foundation representative, as you say, do you have a specific  
title?"  
  
"Whatever anybody says, just call me Tom," he quickly replied.  
"How about we get on with that trip before we have to put it off  
again."   
  
"Good idea," she agreed.  
  
***  
  
End of part 2  
  
Now, talk about a story (Corridor) that keeps going in unexpected  
directions. We hope you liked.   
  
There will be a third part to this story eventually. Look for  
*Corridor: The Secret Path.*  
  
BIG THANKS to PJ in NH for Beta reading this story and to  
Amanda B. for her support and the research she made on leukemia.  
  
As usual, we need feedback. We want feedback! At  
synbou@hotmail.com  
  
Isabelle S. and Louise B. (A.K.A Synbou)  
  
Copyrights @ March 1999 


	3. The Secret Path

DISCLAIMER: Tom Paris and the rest of Voyager's crew are  
Paramount's, but the story, the Amnesty, and unrelated characters  
are Synbou's. This is a P/T story rated PG-13. Set after 30 Days.  
  
SERIES WARNING: READ THE PRIOR STORIES! You can find them on the  
Synbou's Fan Fiction Web page at:  
http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Shire/7454/  
  
Prior stories in the *Neoplasm Universe*.  
1) Neoplasm  
2) In The Dark  
3) Decytologenesis  
4) Corridor: The Secret Pain.  
5) Corridor: The Secret Past  
  
SYNOPSIS: Knowing that his cancer is taking a turn for the worst,   
Tom leads an away team into the Corridor, earlier than expected,  
in order to get help.  
  
Corridor: The Secret Path  
by Synbou  
synbou@hotmail.com  
  
  
****  
  
Tom drew in a harsh breath.  
  
He was piloting the Delta Flyer at warp two, distancing the small  
craft from Voyager, and having second thoughts about the wisdom  
of this whole mission. It was not too late to change his mind,  
Chakotay's words echoed in his mind. However, he was not ready to  
turn around just yet. Still, at that very moment, Tom could not  
help but wonder if he would be doing this in better  
circumstances.  
  
The answer was simple: No.  
  
Sure, he was worried about the Amnesty's crew. Yes, the fact that  
they had no constant communication with them bothered him. But,  
he could live with the little Voyager was receiving. Still, if  
things had went as planned -- in ordered words, if his damn  
leukemia had not returned prematurely -- Tom Paris would not be  
considering entering a Starfleet vessel in the Corridor without  
the support of an experienced crew.  
  
Hell, Tom Paris had not even considered entering a Starfleet ship  
in the Corridor ever again!  
  
Amber could bring Voyager in the Corridor! Or Semack, Baythart  
or Chakotay, but not him. Not after Caldik Prime... Not even if  
he knew that the accident was not entirely his fault.   
  
Not entirely... But still responsible.  
  
Caldik Prime had changed Tom's life in so many ways. It had  
changed it for the worst. It had tinted his Starfleet career with  
lies. It had destroyed his reputation. But, that had been nothing  
compared to the grief he had felt for the loss of his friends, to  
the nightmares, to the fears, to the insecurities, and to the  
self-doubts that were still plaguing him after all those years.  
  
Caldik Prime had also changed Tom's life for the better. Tom had  
found redemption, friendship, and love on Kimira. People who were  
willing to hear what he had to say. They had accepted him for who  
he was. Being forced to resign from Starfleet had even turned out  
to be a blessing. It had made him realized that there was more to  
life than Starfleet's little reality. Away from the family  
pressure -- from his father and *his* expectations -- Tom had  
found his own. Never would he have thought of himself as a  
family man. Never had he imagined that he could have found so  
much joy in being a father.  
  
Fate had cruelly ripped him away from his family and his   
dreams. But there again, life had took an unexpected turned by  
catapulting Voyager into the Delta Quadrant. Through good times  
and harsh ones, Tom and the rest of the crew had rebuilt their  
life. Now, with the prospect of meeting with the Amnesty and of  
returning home, they were at the dawn of another new beginning.  
  
If only he could make it there...  
  
"We will be reaching our coordinates in 15 seconds," Seven of  
Nine informed them. "Ready to initiate the Dedion beam on your  
mark, Tom."  
  
After the fifth correction, Seven had finally taken into the  
habit of just calling him *Tom* and not *Mister Paris* as he had  
requested.  
  
"Aye, Seven. Stand ready for my mark," the pilot told them. The  
small crew of the Delta Flyer sat straighter in their seats.  
"Five... four..."  
  
Hell, he hated those countdowns...  
  
"Three... two..."  
  
He could still change his mind...  
  
"One..."  
  
There was no turning back.  
  
"Mark!"  
  
The instant Seven initiated the beam, a tiny blue wave started  
to form in front of the shuttlecraft. It was so pretty. Quickly,  
the wave got bigger and bigger, threatening to sweep everything  
in its path as it started to ride through space.  
  
The Delta Flyer had just a few crucial seconds during which it  
could make its entrance into the Corridor before the wave totally  
faded away. The heading had to be right -- not too close to the  
center -- the velocity proportional to the one of the wave, the  
shields at the right frequency...  
  
Tom was suddenly amazed at how easy it felt to make his entry --  
as if he had never ceased doing it. His senses tuned to every  
movement of the shuttlecraft, he could tell the distance between  
them and the wave. Putting all his calculations aside, Tom let  
his instincts guide his path.  
  
With a jolt, the Delta Flyer reached the far right side of the  
wave and quickly disappeared into a vast blue sea. As quickly as  
it had appeared, the wave dissipated leaving behind a few tinsels  
in the darkness of space.  
  
***  
  
This particular alpha shift appeared to be one of the longest of  
B'Elanna's life. On many occasions, she had stopped and told  
herself that each second past was a second closer to seeing Tom  
again. However, most of those seconds seemed more like minutes,  
even hours.  
  
Tom, Chakotay, the Doctor, and Seven had left over two hours  
ago. They had successfully entered into the Corridor. However,  
Voyager had lost contact with them less than 20 minutes later.  
Now, the only thing they could do on this side of space, was to  
wait for their return.  
  
So, B'Elanna waited.  
  
Had her stomach not screamed for food, she would still be in  
engineering exercising her mind with more productive things than  
worrying. But there she was, in the Mess Hall, an untouched plate  
sitting in front her, cursing for the umpteenth time the cancer  
that was threatening to take Tom away from her. This curse that  
kept coming back to hurt Tom, to haunt them. This despised  
leukemia, that not only was killing Tom, but that had forced him  
into a mission that he was in no condition to do.  
  
They could end up losing him sooner. Even if the Doctor was with  
him, Tom might even not come back alive from this mission. It was  
a very small possibility, but she could not help fearing the  
worst.  
  
"B'Elanna." Torres met her Captain's gray eyes. She was standing  
a few feet away from the table with a cup of coffee in her hand.  
She was looking a little lost herself. "May I sit with you?"  
  
From behind the counter, Neelix saw Janeway join B'Elanna. The  
two women shared their fear in silence, both taking comfort into  
their favorite food. Comfort food, Tom had called it once. Neelix  
could only hope that it would help them ease their pain, like it  
did so many times before.  
  
The Talaxian drew in a breath. He too, was very concerned about  
the pilot. However, wallowing in worry would not help him clean  
his kitchen. It actually felt good to have something to do to  
occupy his mind.  
  
***  
  
"Doctor, you should regain your seat," Seven advised, keeping a  
critical eye on the EHM.  
  
"Something wrong?" Chakotay asked as he looked up from his  
console.  
  
"The Doctor obviously cannot keep his balance and his imaging  
system is showing signs of distress," Seven replied.  
  
"You did not tell me that even an EHM could get motion sickness  
in the Corridor, Mr. Paris," the Doctor said.  
  
"Doc, if you call me *Mr. Paris* again, I won't help you," Tom  
warned as he got up from his seat and made his way toward the  
back of the Delta Flyer. "As far as I know, you're the first  
EMH to come into the Corridor. How could I know how it would  
affect you?"  
  
"Is it serious?" inquired the Commander.  
  
"I don't know," Tom told them as he examined the emitter. "I  
can't say what would interfere with the Doc's system. What do you  
think it could be Seven?"  
  
Seven came closer. "I do not know, either. Maybe Lieutenant  
Torres could be of assistance."  
  
"Lieutenant Torres...!" the Doctor repeated not believing his  
ears. "She's light-years away! What until then?"  
  
"I'm afraid that you'll have to suffer like the rest of us," Tom  
said with a sympathetic smile.  
  
"What if she can't find a solution?" asked an even more alarmed  
EMH. "What will we do once Voyager enters in the Corridor?"  
  
"Your program will have to be shut down, Doctor," Seven said.  
  
"That's not acceptable! *I'm* the Doctor. You can't do that," he  
insisted. "*You* need *me*. Who will take care of you?" he asked  
more desperately meeting Tom's gaze.  
  
"Doc...Doc... Don't panic," Tom said, unable to take his joke  
further. He put a hand on the Doctor's shoulder. "It's nothing  
serious. We just have to shield your holo-emitter. Seven can do  
it. We were kidding."  
  
"Ha-ha," replied the Doctor dryly. "You've been hanging around  
*Mr. Paris* too long," he told Seven.  
  
Tom and Chakotay chuckled. The two men could have sworn that  
they saw a glimpse of a soft evil smile appear on Seven's lips.  
  
***  
  
With the assurance of an experience commanding officer, Starfleet  
Liaison officer Audrey Larsen walked onto the Flying Deck of the  
S.S.F. Amnesty. She joined the younger woman tending the OPS  
station -- a redhead who just by her aristocratic features showed  
strength of character associated with the her hair color.  
  
"Gwanna, what's the emergency?"  
  
The redhead smiled, her eyes shining with anticipation. "We're  
about to have Asa on audio."  
  
"Audio?" Audrey asked startled. "For that to be possible, he has  
to be in the Elsha."  
  
"He is. It's about time. I was expecting him a lot sooner," said  
Gwanna. "He sent us a code-silver priority message from a small  
craft called the Delta Flyer."  
  
"Code-silver? All right, things could be worst," she pointed out.  
"Any idea what's the problem he is facing?"  
  
Gwanna tightened her lips together. "None."  
  
***  
  
"Seven, try the 368th frequency," Tom advised as he looked over  
the young woman's shoulder.  
  
*Amnesty to Delta Flyer... Delta Flyer, this is the Amnesty  
responding to the Code-Silver. Please respond,* could finally be  
heard clearly through the Delta Flyer.  
  
"Is this better?" Seven asked a bit sarcastically.  
  
"Much better, Seven. Thank you," Tom replied with a smile.  
  
The apparent teasing between Tom and Seven stole another chuckle  
from Chakotay. The former Borg was making amazing progress  
regarding her social interactions with the rest of the crew.  
Kathryn would be glad to see her so relaxed and playful, Chakotay   
told himself.  
  
He gave a sideways glance in Tom's direction and his heart felt  
heavy. The Commander knew very well that Tom had a lot to do  
with Seven's integration into the crew, as he had been there for  
Kes and Neelix. Tom could be so good with people when one was  
giving him the chance -- that he knew from personal experience.  
Chakotay did not want to imagine what his loss would feel like,  
the prospect of losing him to his cancer was already chilling  
enough. They could only hope that with the help of Tom's friends,  
they would be able to find a cure.  
  
If Tom could live long enough to meet them in person...  
  
One step at the time, Chakotay reminded himself.  
  
"Amnesty, this is the Delta Flyer," he heard Tom reply. "It's  
good to hear your voice Gwanna," Tom exchanged a smile with his  
crew.  
  
"Welcome home, Asa," she replied enthusiastically. "Boy! Is it  
good to hear your voice!"  
  
Chakotay tried very hard to mask his facial expression as he  
remembered the woman's voice, its soft pitch and its lovely  
accent. It still had an affect on him. So, Loreena's sister was  
the Gwanna he knew. He had been afraid of that.  
  
"I missed you, too. It's actually good to be back," Tom  
confessed. "Who else is with you?"  
  
*The entire senior staff: Audrey, Paul, Margo, Amber, Semack,  
Sanya, Brian, and Dominick,* Gwanna informed him. *You?*  
  
"Commander Chakotay, our EMH, and Seven of Nine," Tom replied.  
  
*Doctor, Seven of Nine, it's nice to meet you," Gwanna said  
Cheerfully. *Chakotay, it's good to know that you are all right.  
Asa can you give us your position?*  
  
"Standing," came the immediate reply.  
  
*Oh, that's really funny, Thomas,* another woman commented.  
  
Laughter could be heard over the link. Tom chuckled while  
Chakotay exchanged a questioning look with Seven. What did *Asa*  
stand for. The name sounded familiar somehow.  
  
"He should sit down, by the way," the Doctor put in dryly.  
  
"I'm glad that you came, Audrey," Tom said ignoring the EMH. "I  
know that you don't particularly like the Elsha."  
  
*Not particularly, no,* the older woman said.  
  
"The Tower-of-Pisa syndrome again?" Tom asked with an evil grin.  
  
More laughter could be heard.  
  
*Thomas, how about you give us your position? We can't pinpoint  
your origin,* Audrey said changing the subject.  
  
Tom chuckled. "That's because we're too small. We're about  
89250.78 *Eldared* away from you."  
  
Seven looked up to the pilot. "How can you tell? We cannot read  
them, either," she asked taken aback and bit frustrated by it.  
  
"Err... Experience..." Tom ventured as he was at lost for words.  
  
*Hi, Tom, it's Paul. I see you still have your little ability?*  
  
"Quite frankly, I was worried sick. I didn't know if I still  
had it," Tom confessed.  
  
*Unless someone played with your head,* the man added. *I doubt  
that you could lose it.*  
  
"That's what I mean, Paul," Tom replied. "I didn't know if I  
still had it."  
  
"What little ability?" Commander Chakotay inquired. He could well  
imagine that there would be more little surprises concerning Tom  
as they went further.  
  
"You know that I scored very high on spatial orientation tests."  
The Commander nodded. "I score even higher when I'm in the  
Corridor. It doesn't only give sides effects."  
  
*But, it does to most of us,* Audrey pointed out. *Thomas, you  
sent a code-silver priority message. Is there a problem?"  
  
Chakotay saw Tom pale on the spot. He had been dreading that  
moment since he had learned about the return of his leukemia and  
there it was. Tom had to tell them. It was after all the purpose  
of their premature trip into the Corridor.  
  
The Commander stood up as best he could -- feeling already the  
motion sickness -- and invited Tom to sit in his chair. He gave  
his friend an encouraging nod.  
  
"Sides effects of another nature brought us in the Elsha," Tom  
began. He bit his lower lip. "I have bad news. Six weeks ago, my  
leukemia decided to come back for a visit."  
  
A heavy silence followed.  
  
***  
  
The Delta Flyer touched down in Voyager's cargo bay. Tom sighed.  
They were back safe and sound, their little mission accomplished.  
He felt better than he had in the last two months. Help was  
really on its way. Now, he could believe it! In about two weeks,  
an away team, dispatched by the Amnesty would meet with Voyager.  
Someone else would take over his heavy task. He would also  
finally have news of his not so little girls, among other things.  
  
Tom gave a look around as the other members of the away team  
busied themselves downloading the shuttlecraft's computer and  
gathering the equipment. Tom's gaze rested on Chakotay. Something  
had been bothering Chakotay since their conversation with the  
Amnesty. Chakotay had been too quiet on their way back, and the  
numerous looks he had sent in his direction had been annoying the  
pilot like hell! Tom had a good idea of what it might be. Still,  
he would have to be sure. If Chakotay would not speak his mind  
soon, he certainly would prompt the issue.  
  
With a common accord, the away team walked out of the Delta Flyer  
together. An evil smile crept on Tom's lips as he noticed Seven  
and Chakotay limping a bit, as if one of their legs had been  
shorter than the other. The Tower-of-Pisa Syndrome, he remembered  
it well.  
  
The Captain, Harry, and B'Elanna had been waiting for them. The  
moment Torres caught a sight of Tom, she came up to him almost  
running and hugged him for dear life.  
  
"B'Elanna, you're knocking the air out of me..." he managed.  
  
"Oh...I'm sorry," she apologized, detaching herself a little too  
awkwardly.  
  
Tom could not help but feel sad each time B'Elanna was afraid  
that she would break him in little pieces just by touching him.  
  
"How was the trip?" Janeway asked as she came closer, Harry on  
her heels. "Did you made contact with the Amnesty?"  
  
"The ride was bumpy for awhile, but I've had worse," Tom said.  
"We didn't have any serious problems. We did contact the Amnesty.  
The crew sends its regards. I'm happy to say that help is on its  
way." Tom paused. His smile disappeared. "We also have some bad  
news."  
  
Subtlety, Janeway stood up straighter.  
  
"The Amnesty experienced a few problems along the way," Tom went  
on. "They might make things a little more difficult for us on the  
way back, but it shouldn't compromise the mission".  
  
"How do you feel?" B'Elanna asked anxiously.  
  
"Fine! I feel better than I have in weeks. I got all this energy  
inside. I could go and run my Captain Proton program for the rest  
of the day. Anyone interested?"  
  
Janeway and Harry exchanged a looked and chuckled.  
  
"I am glad to hear that you are feeling so well, Tom," began the  
Doctor. "But I still want to see you in Sickbay as soon as  
possible for a checkup. This Corridor is very unsettling."  
  
"What's up with him?" B'Elanna asked as she watched the hologram  
leaving the cargo bay.  
  
"He got case of motion sickness in the Corridor," Tom said.  
  
"He what?" quipped the Chief Engineer.  
  
"The Doctor experienced difficulty processing sensory information  
while in the Corridor," Seven explained in her neutral tone. "His  
holo-matrix will have to be adjusted when we enter the Corridor  
again."  
  
"Seven and Tom pulled his leg about it a little," Chakotay added  
with a smile. "He didn't appreciate it too much."  
  
Janeway could not hide the grin that was playing on her lips. "I  
wish I would have seen that."  
  
"It was somewhat entertaining," Seven confirmed just before she  
left the cargo bay as well.  
  
Everyone laughed.  
  
"I believe it was, if Seven says so," Janeway grinned.  
  
"Captain," Tom began. "Chakotay and I have to discuss a few  
things before giving you our full report." He did not miss the  
curious look the Commander sent him, nor did Janeway. "Could we  
meet in about fifteen minutes over lunch?"  
  
"Are you actually hungry?" Harry asked incredulously.  
  
"Well yeah, it does happen from time to time when the food is not  
a greenish jelly, made of leola root, or standard Starfleet  
ration bars."  
  
"Tom, if you're hungry, by all means, we shall serve you an  
edible meal!" Janeway declared. Everyone chuckled. "See you in  
fifteen minutes in the conference lounge, then."  
  
Tom waited to be alone with the Commander to face him.  
  
"Something's been bothering you since we contacted the Amnesty,  
he stated promptly. "Would it have to do with a certain redhead?"  
  
The Commander was taken aback for a moment. Tom could not recall  
seeing him looking so sheepish before.  
  
"So Loreena's sister *is* the Gwanna I knew. I suppose you're  
aware that we had a relationship," the older man said.  
  
"I do. It's a small universe, Chakotay," Tom pointed out. "Hell,  
with what she used to tell me, it almost made me question my  
heterosexuality," he joked.  
  
Chakotay seemed even more embarrassed now. Tom regretted his  
smart-ass remarked.  
  
"Listen, Chakotay," he continued more seriously. "I know that she  
really loved you in her own way. Do I have to remind you that  
you're the one who left?"  
  
Chakotay sighed. "Our *ways* were too different. There wouldn't  
have been anything permanent between us. I'm just sorry that we  
broke up under such bitter terms."  
  
"The two of you will be working closely together, will it be a  
problem?" Tom asked holding Chakotay's gaze.  
  
"Of course not," Chakotay hastily replied. Quite frankly, he was  
not sure if it would be or not, and he was not ready to admit it.  
"Say, are you petitioning for my job?"  
  
Tom chuckled.  
  
"Something else has been bothering me," Chakotay confessed.  
"During our conversation with the Amnesty, Gwanna kept on calling  
you *Asa*?"  
  
"A bad habit she never could get rid of," Tom replied. Now, he  
was the one feeling uncomfortable.  
  
"Asa as...?" the Commander trailed off.  
  
"Asa as the boy Dr. Lea Spencer wrote about in the preface of my  
dissertation on kidnapping," Tom confirmed.  
  
"And the Asa I heard about in the DMZ?" Chakotay asked.  
  
"Having an alter-ego can be helpful," Tom pointed out.  
  
"I suppose it can be especially when there is hardly anything  
linking one to the other. Tom, after I read your dissertation, I  
did make some research about your kidnapping. I found close to  
nothing. There was a reference in the records about the abduction  
of the son of a Starfleet Captain by a woman name Lahuma during a  
visit on Kimira. Besides that... I couldn't even find anything  
about this Lahuma."  
  
"Most of it is either classified or not mentioned at all. It was  
a way to protect my identity," Tom explained.  
  
"I should of at least made the connection between you and Gwanna  
one way or the other. The Foundation really made a difference for  
a lot of people back in the DMZ." Chakotay sighed. "I can be such  
a jerk!"  
  
"Nah! Just a bad judge of character at times," Tom grinned.  
"Com'on, I got this huge stack of replicator rations that are  
begging to be turned into a grilled T-bone drenching in gravy  
with baked potatoes!"  
  
***  
  
"Tom, you said that the Amnesty encountered a few problems along  
the way," Janeway said, sitting back in her seat with a cup of  
coffee for desert. "Are they serious?"  
  
Tom for his part stood up and went to the wall console. He called  
up a diagram of the Amnesty.  
  
"Well to beginning with," he said. "These are the schematics of  
the Amnesty-C, the latest and improved model that has been  
designed for long flight in the Corridor. Apparently, they lost  
the last one during the Federation/Dominion war, which is not  
over by the way -- we'll hear all about it when we'll meet the  
crew.  
  
"The Amnesty-C is composed of three triangular crafts which can  
be independent from one another. The front part is the Mist, the  
port one is the Prophecy, and the starboard part is the See-Seas.  
Join the three together and you have the Amnesty. Most of the  
designs you'll find in the Corridor are based not on crew  
complement capacities, but on manoeuverability.  
  
"Now, to come back to the captain's question: the See-Seas  
received heavy damages during an attack with the Irsians -- which  
is not too surprising. The two other parts were also damaged, but  
not too seriously. The Amnesty's integrity has not been  
compromised, but they are going at a slower pace than expected.  
The Amnesty subsequently encountered an area of space filled with  
Quantum Singularities and type IV special anomalies. There's also  
some wear and tear due to the changes of inter-layers and  
over-rails. The last thing, but not the least," he  
paused for an instant. "They lost two crew members during the  
attack."  
  
Janeway gave Tom a sympathetic smile, as she knew how badly his  
last statement was affecting him.  
  
"That's really sad," she told him.  
  
Tom took back his seat in a respectful moment of silence.  
  
"You said that our trip in the Corridor has not been compromised,  
but that it could be a bit more difficult than expected. How so?"  
the Captain asked when she felt that they could go on.  
  
"It'll depend in which shape the See-Seas will come out," Tom  
answered. "It's hard to say what will be the impact of losing  
the Mist for the rest of the voyage."  
  
"Wasn't the Mist the name of your old ship?" Harry asked.  
  
"Not was," Tom corrected. "The Mist *is* *my* old ship. There's a  
few features found on it that haven't been added to other models.  
It's smaller compared to the See-Seas and the Prophecy. It's  
edges are sharper. It travels at a higher speed in more centered  
inter-layers -- which will allow it to meet with Voyager in about  
two weeks instead of three months. Also the likelihood that they  
would encounter something in that kind of inter-layer is almost  
none. By putting themselves in stasis, Audrey, Gwanna, Paul, and  
Semack won't suffer from the sides effects of the Corridor. The  
ship's computer will operate its basic functions."  
  
"Wouldn't it be nice if everyone could be placed in stasis and  
that we could travel at high inter-layers," said Harry. "We would  
be home a lot sooner."  
  
"Assuming we could find a ship that would hold together that long  
and not rip apart under the pressure," added B'Elanna.  
  
"In stasis for months? ... In the Corridor?..." Tom trailed off.  
"Err... I don't think so. I'm certainly NOT trying that again."  
  
Some of them knew that being put in stasis reminded Tom of the  
five days of hell he had passed in the Decytologenesis tube.  
Among them, Chakotay wondered if Tom's claustrophobia was not  
also related to other factors, such as his kidnaping.  
  
"Tom," the Commander began, wishing to change the subject. "You  
asked Audrey if she was having the Tower-of-Pisa syndrome again.  
What was that all about?"  
  
"Don't you have a clue?" Tom replied with teasing smile. The  
older man gave him a blank look. "The Tower-of-Pisa syndrome is  
an imbalance in the inner ear. It gives the impression that you  
have one leg shorter than the other and that you are sinking on  
one side."  
  
"That's what it was?!" retorted Chakotay. "Does it last long?"  
  
"Depends on how long one is in the Corridor as well as on the  
individual," Tom explained. "But don't worry, Paul Wagner is an  
excellent neurologist and neuropsychologist. He'll be able to  
help you -- or at least explained to you what he can't fix."  
  
"Oh! That's very reassuring," quipped Harry not too convinced.  
  
***  
  
That path, he knew it well. Composed and serene, Chakotay let the  
wind guide him toward the pond. It saddened him to find the  
Winter Garden more cold and lifeless each time. It was turning  
into the dark and frigid night of his first visit.  
  
He heard ruffles in the crisp snow over the wind. He looked  
behind him. There was nothing there. He turned back around to  
find the wolf in his path.  
  
"I can always count on you sharpening my senses," he told her  
with a smile.  
  
*You might think that you know this path well, Chakotay. But, you  
are wrong,* the wolf began. *You are just at its beginning. It is  
a long and dangerous one. It is filled with many evils: hatred,  
fear, bloodshed, pain, and sorrow.*  
  
"I know that I am walking the path of a dying man," Chakotay  
assured her solemnly. "I know that Tom did not have an easy life:  
his cancer, the lost of wife, his rocky relationship with his  
father, prison,..."  
  
*It's not just about Tom. It's never been just about Tom,* said  
the wolf. *If he dies at this time, the cat and child will die  
with him.*  
  
"The child?" echoed Chakotay. "By the child, do you mean Asa?"  
  
*Is he not the one you have been seeking?* she demanded.  
  
"How can I find him?" he asked.  
  
*By walking the path,* the wolf replied as she pointed her head  
toward the cat who was sitting on the pond. *You have to know  
Chakotay, that if you undertake this journey you will have to   
see it to the end.*  
  
Chakotay drew in a breath, then slowly walked to the icy pond.  
  
"I promised Tom that I would be there for him. That I would help  
him through this difficult moment," he reminded the wolf.  
  
*By helping your friend, you help the child.*  
  
"What his so special about Asa?" he asked.  
  
*The child is at the center,* replied the wolf  
  
"The center of what?" wondered Chakotay.  
  
*Of what surrounds him,* she answered.  
  
Now that was not really helpful! Chakotay gave his animal guide a  
sideways look. Clearly, it was up to him to find the answers.  
  
Carefully, Chakotay made his way on the ice and joined the cat.  
The big Himalayan eyed him for a brief instant, then looked back  
through the ice. Chakotay knelt down and took a look for himself.  
  
"Oh, Spirits!..."  
  
There was the child.  
  
***  
  
The day before, they had returned from the corridor. The Doctor  
had examined Tom at length and had made sure that the pilot ate a  
good meal. Tom, on what he called the *corridor high*, had eaten  
with appetite at the following meals -- like he had not in weeks.  
Life almost felt *normal*. Everyone was amazed at his sudden  
recovery. They were praying that it would last. Tom was only  
hopping that it would last long enough for his friends from the  
Corridor to get to him. However, he knew better than anyone that  
his recovery would be very short.  
  
He was sitting at the helm when he felt an awkward feeling crawl  
into his body. At that second he was not in any pain, but he knew  
that if he twitched only one muscle, just a millimeter, the pain  
would start shouting through his body like bright fireworks. So  
he did not move and tried not to panic.  
  
But as always, when his lungs cried for air he had to fill them.  
The movement of his rib cage sent hot fire to the rest of his  
body. The pain was very intense. Tom bit his lip not to cry out,  
but a small whimper escaped his lips. His nerves protested this  
overload of sensation and pushed his body into seizures. He fell  
to the floor.  
  
Tom could hear everything that was going on around him. He could  
hear the captain's concerned voice. He could hear Harry's worried  
tone. He heard Chakotay as calm as ever calling sickbay.  
  
Tom could also see, but nothing was in focus. His brain could not  
process the visual stimuli, so it gave all kinds of weird images.  
  
Then, to protect Tom's nervous system, his conscious mind shut  
down. He slipped into blissfully quiet darkness. There, there  
was no pain. There, he could rest.  
  
***  
  
Main engineering had always been for Torres a place of solace. A  
place where she could find both interesting mental challenges  
that pleased her calmer human half and the thrills her Klingon  
half craved for. It was obviously the first place to look if one  
was seeking her.  
  
"B'Elanna."  
  
The Chief Engineer looked up from her console. The commander  
was standing in front her. She never had been good at reading  
facial expressions right -- which had put her in trouble more  
than once -- however, she could read Chakotay's like a book this  
time. In an instant, the fear that something had happened to her  
mate transformed itself in a conviction. But, as she wanted to  
ask *what*, her voice cracked.  
  
"Tom? ..." was the only word she managed to say.  
  
"We just transported him to sickbay," the man said just above a  
whisper. "He had a seizure on the bridge a moment ago."  
  
As soon as Chakotay and B'Elanna stepped into Sickbay, the Doctor  
ushered them to his office where the Captain was already waiting  
in silence, a solemn expression on her face.  
  
"What's wrong?" B'Elanna asked, fearing the answer.  
  
"Tom had a seizure," the EMH replied calmly.  
  
"I know that!" she retorted angrily. "Why?"  
  
"The cancer has metastasized. I suspect the effects of the  
Corridor are to blame. The disease has spread to every system  
in his body at an incredible pace. There are unusual growths in  
almost every organ, including his brain. The later is what caused  
the seizure."  
  
The doctor was too calm and objective as he was delivering his  
bad news, B'Elanna thought -- as if he did not care, which she  
knew was not true.  
  
"What are you going to do about it?" B'Elanna inquired, refusing  
the inevitable.  
  
"I will keep Tom as comfortable as I can. When he wakes up we  
will discuss possible pain management plans."  
  
"Pain management plans," echoed the Commander. "What about the  
cancer? Can't you operate? Remove the tumors? Destroy the  
cancerous cells?"  
  
"I could remove some of the cancerous growths, but not all of  
them. It would be like one person fighting a brush fire. As soon  
as you put one part out another would go up in flame. A lot of  
healthy tissue would be damaged in the process making it worst.  
The best course to take is to respect his wishes and simply keep  
him comfortable."  
  
"You mean: let him *die!*" B'Elanna paraphrased with disbelief.  
She could not be hearing this. Tears were running down her face.  
She was angry. She wanted to throw the EMH out the closest  
airlock.  
  
Chakotay put a hand on her shoulder.  
  
B'Elanna took a deep breath to calm her self down. Throwing the  
doctor off the ship would not help Tom.  
  
"If there was anything else I could do, I would. However, at this  
point, all I can do is respect Tom's living will."  
  
"We can't be there yet, can we?" croaked B'Elanna.  
  
"Tom's living will?" the Captain asked looking up at them.  
  
"It's in his medical file, Captain," Chakotay replied. "He asked  
that when the time came, that no extraordinary measures be taken  
to save his life, unless the outcome ensured him a level of  
living he had before his illness."  
  
"As I just said," the Doctor added. "The tumors are making it  
quite impossible to do so. I might be able to do something if the  
cancer was gone. At this time, I got nothing else to throw at it.  
My ammunition's locker is empty."  
  
"How long?" asked B'Elanna looking down at her hands, she was  
twisting in her lap.  
  
"Two, maybe three weeks."  
  
"He might get to see his friends from the Corridor," Chakotay  
said with a hint of hope in his voice.  
  
"I'm hopping he will," The Doctor said.  
  
"Can I sit with him?" B'Elanna asked.  
  
"I'm sure he will be happy to see you when he wakes up," replied  
the Doctor.  
  
Chakotay escorted her to Tom's bedside. They exchanged a few  
comforting words, then he left her alone with Tom.  
  
***  
  
As they left sickbay, Kathryn and Chakotay departed in different  
directions. They were both in need of something, anything, that  
would bring some comfort. He knew Kathryn well enough to know  
that she would retire to the privacy of her ready room to   
replicate herself a strong and bitter black coffee. As for him,  
coffee was the last thing he needed.  
  
He wondered around Voyager's hallways for awhile. He passed by  
his quarters -- he certainly did not want to be alone with  
himself in there -- so he kept on his way, doing some small talk  
with the few crew members he encountered. He eventually ended up  
in front of holodeck one.  
  
"Computer, activate Chakotay training program 15-beta," he said.  
  
The doors of the holodeck opened and Chakotay walked in the  
boxing gym. Throwing a few punches would help get rid off all the  
nasty energy that was building inside him, at least he hoped.  
  
Gloves on hands, he stepped into the ring and threw the first  
punch at his holographic adversary. He fought as if it was *the*  
fight of his life. He gave it all that he had until he ran out of  
strength. He crashed to the floor, exhausted.  
  
Why had he done this? he wondered. His strangling feeling of  
helplessness was still haunting him. He shivered at the thought.  
He felt so cold. The crisp air was hard to breath. The wet icy  
surface of the pond was freezing his fingers.  
  
Chakotay swallowed a lump.  
  
Closing his eyes, he sat back on his heels, taking in what was  
happening to him. Never before had he had vision quests without  
his akoona. It felt strange.  
  
*Do not be scared, Chakotay,* the wolf told him. *You are still  
in control.*  
  
He opened his eyes and smiled at the wolf and the cat who had  
been his companions in this place for months now. He cleaned the  
ice with his hand in order to see through it more clearly. Asa's  
baby blue eyes were looking back at him. Suddenly, a renewed  
strength filled him up as every instincts in body compelled him  
to reach for the child. With determination, Chakotay used the  
only tools he had and hammered the ice with his fists. He finally  
let out a cry of frustrations and surrender as realized that the  
only thing he would break would be his hands.  
  
"I will never be able to get him out," he said with resignation.  
  
*You have to keep trying, Chakotay,* the wolf insisted. *It is  
not too late yet.*  
  
"Is he even still alive?" Chakotay voiced his doubts.  
  
*You know he is,* the wolf assured him. *Others are helping Tom  
as well. Look for the breaches their warmth will live behind.*  
  
***  
  
Despite the numbness of his body, Tom slowly became aware of his  
consciousness. He was so tired. He was also scared. Afraid of  
this feeling of dread that he could not repress. Oh God, how he  
wanted to go back to sleep. But there was nothing to it, he kept  
being pulled to the surface by a force stronger that his will. It  
occurred to him that he had traveled that path many times before.  
That particular force he recognized as well.  
  
B'Elanna was near him.  
  
B'Elanna's voice he could hear.  
  
"Bee," he croaked.  
  
"Hey there," she greeted softly, her hand caressing for his  
forehead.  
  
"Water," he whispered harshly.  
  
B'Elanna quicky fetched a glass of cool water, calling for the  
Doctor at the same time. She slipped an arm under Tom's back and  
helped him into a half sitting position to take a few sips of  
water.  
  
"Thanks," he said a little less hoarse.  
  
"How do you feel?" asked B'Elanna anxiously.  
  
"Like... Like my head and mouth were stuffed with cotton," he  
said weakly. His attention drew to the Doctor who was joining  
them. He took in a short breath. "Doc... How bad is it?"  
  
"It's bad," the EMH replied with all the sympathy he had learned  
to master over the year. "The cancer has metastasized. It's in  
every organ now. There is not much I can do other than keep you  
as comfortable as possible."  
  
"That bad, huh?" Tom whispered looking away. Anywhere. Nowhere...  
  
He felt confused all the sudden as fuzzy images filled his mind.  
This was deja vu. This whole situation seemed like a bad film he  
had been forced to watch time and again.  
  
He shivered.  
  
How many times could a man be given a death sentence?  
  
"How long do you give me?" he finally asked somewhat detached  
from his words.  
  
"Two, maybe three weeks," the EMH answered him.  
  
Tom sighed  
  
"Well, at least I'll be there when the Mist arrives,", he said,  
voicing the only thing that was coming to everyone's mind. It was  
a small consolation, but what else could he do than hold on to  
it? He felt so helpless.  
  
This was so unreal.  
  
***  
  
Tom looked away. This gave B'Elanna an instant during which she  
could compose herself. This was so hard. How long would her anger  
be able to keep her tears at bay? How long would her companion  
prevent her from tearing down the place? She was conflicted as  
always. But Tom needed her to be strong and strong she would  
remain. She had made a promise to him.  
  
"How long do you give me?" Tom had asked. He seemed detached  
from his words and it scared B'Elanna.  
  
"Two, maybe three weeks," the EMH had answered him.  
  
"Well, at least I'll be there when the Mist arrives," Tom had  
responded too calmly.  
  
B'Elanna could not take it any more. Tom was accepting his death  
as if it was simply the ship next change of course.  
  
"How dare you give up so easily?" she almost screamed at him.  
"How dare you give up and die on me! You got to fight this."  
Tears were running down her face. Her hands were tight fists at  
her sides.  
  
"Oh, Bee..." Tom's calm weak voice was laced with sadness. "I'm  
not giving up. I'm accepting that my life is going to end sooner  
than most." He drew in a breath. "I understand that it's hard for  
you. It's hard for me too, even though I had too many occasions  
to prepare for this moment."  
  
Tom took her hand and pulled his beloved to him with the little  
strength he had. He wrapped his arms around her. They cried  
together for what they were going to lose and what they would  
never have. The Doctor retreated to his office to offer them  
some privacy.  
  
***  
  
Two days had passed during which Tom had found little relief.  
Forty-eight hours of sheer hell during which his friends had took  
turns by his side, helplessly watching him suffer.  
  
B'Elanna could not imagine a worst torture in the universe. This  
had to stop. She could not take it anymore. Tom could not take it  
anymore! They had to let him go if it was the only thing they  
could do for him. She told Harry and the Doctor so.  
  
"How can you say things like that?!" Harry asked outraged.  
  
"Lieutenant, Ensign, if the two of you don't calm down, I'll have  
to call security," the doctor warned her.  
  
"You're not *listening* to me!" she cried out. "Tom will not pass  
the last hours of his life agonizing. I won't allow it!"  
  
"We won't allow it either," Harry told her calmly. "But, Tom's  
trip into the Corridor is still affecting his brain. It won't  
last forever. The Doctor and Seven will find something soon."  
  
"*When?*" she challenged. "Today? tomorrow? In a month?"  
  
"B'Elanna, please calm down," the doctor repeated. "Don't make  
me sedate you."  
  
"You!" she retorted angrily, pointing the Doctor. "You stay away  
from me!"  
  
"Sickbay to Security," the EMH called. "We need help."  
  
Harry took a step forward.  
  
"B'Elanna, Tom is still fighting. He's not giving up," he said.  
  
"You don't understand, Harry! Tom already gave up. He knows  
that there's nothing we can do for him."  
  
"You don't believe that," the younger man said. *He* did not want  
to believe that.  
  
"Admit it, Doc," she told the physician. "You lost and they won."  
  
"*They?* B'Elanna want are you talking about?" the Doctor asked.  
  
The half-Klingon started to pace furiously. Moments later, Tuvok  
and two of his security officers walked in sickbay.  
  
"B'Elanna..." Harry began, attempting another step forward.  
  
She sprang around and hit the ensign in the chest, sending him  
sliding on the floor. Before she knew it, Tuvok and the Doctor  
were restraining her.  
  
"B'Elanna, stop fighting. This will be a lot easier," the Doctor  
said pressing a hypospray against the woman's neck.  
  
She sank to the floor as tears rolled freely down her cheeks.  
  
"We lost him..." she sobbed. "... and so much pain..."  
  
***  
  
"Are you all right, Mr. Kim?" the Doctor asked the young man.  
  
"Nothing is broken, if that what you mean," Harry replied sourly.  
  
"What about Lieutenant Torres?" Tuvok inquired.  
  
"She will sleep at least for the next six hours," said the EMH.  
"I wonder what she meant by *they* won? *who* won?"  
  
"I've got absolutely no idea, Doc. There's still so much we don't  
know about Tom. Things that we will probably never know." Harry  
sighed heavily. "Part of me agrees with B'Elanna," he admitted.  
"Tom shouldn't be living like this." His gaze flew on his friend  
who was resting at the far end of the room. "He didn't even wake  
up through all of this."  
  
"That might not be such a bad thing, Mr. Kim," the Doctor said.  
"I doubt that this *scene* would have pleased Tom."  
  
"You're right," Harry granted. "But, he wouldn't have needed a  
security team and a hypospray to calm B'Elanna down."  
  
On that, Harry left the Doctor and Tuvok to go sit back beside  
his best friend.  
  
"What prompted this *scene*,Doctor?" asked the Chief of security.  
  
"Exhaustion, hurt, compassion," replied the Doctor, eyeing the  
Vulcan. "There is an imbalance of the neurotransmitters in Tom's  
brain that inhibits the effects of the painkillers. He suffers  
from the pain even in his sleep."  
  
The Vulcan simply nodded his understanding, then he joined Harry.  
  
"Mr. Kim, you should go get some rest yourself. I will stay with  
Tom," the Vulcan told him.  
  
Harry first looked at him, a bit taken aback. Considering that  
this might be for the better, he hesitantly walked away. Tuvok  
took his place in silence. Maybe once Tom was awake, the Vulcan  
would be able to help him.  
  
***  
  
Chakotay looked up from his report, stood up, and glance around  
the bridge. Everyone were attending to their respective stations.  
Obviously, no one had spoke to him. Yet, he was sure that he had  
heard something. At least, he thought he had. He was not so sure  
anymore.  
  
"Commander, is something wrong?" Ayala asked from the tactical  
station.  
  
"No," he assured the security officer. "For a minute there, I  
thought I had heard something."  
  
"No one said anything," Ayala confirmed.  
  
Chakotay nodded and sat back in the captain's chair. Beta shift  
could be a drag at times. It was not as bad as Gamma shift, but  
it was still lacking the lively wakefulness of Alpha shift.  
  
Chakotay had not read more than three words when it heard the  
sound again. It was more distinctive this time. It was a familiar  
soft and plaintiff one that carried a lot of meaning.  
  
"Ayala, you have the bridge," he instructed as he made his way to  
the turbolift.  
  
He let the sound guide him on his way to his quarters, hoping  
that he would not end-up in an embarrassing position in the  
middle of a hallway. As long as he could remember, Chakotay had  
been the seeker and not the pursuer. He felt contentment at the  
tell-tale signs of what was coming his way. Being visited by a  
vision was an honor, a great accomplishment among his people. It  
meant that he was instrumental to the future ahead. He hoped.  
  
The doors of his quarters hissed shut behind him. In the  
darkness, Chakotay fully welcomed Mr. Blue's soft meow and  
lowered himself the floor. He sat comfortably and began to take  
deep steady breathes as he walked the path toward the pond. He  
was in control, he was prepared.  
  
There was an estranged difference about the Winter Garden this  
time. The weather was milder. Some sun-rays were even trying to  
pierced through the thick clouds. Chakotay let the warmth  
soothe him. Calmly, he stepped onto the pond. The ice seemed to  
be ready to break anytime. Chakotay smiled.  
  
"Hold on Kitten," he told Asa. "I'll get you out of here."  
  
*Careful, Chakotay, you must not fall into the water,* the wolf  
warned him.  
  
On his hand and knees, Chakotay hammered the ice with his fists  
as he had done before. He did once, and twice... He felt the  
uneasy sensation that the ice was threatening to give in from  
under him. His fight was really beginning as he was running out  
of time. He drew in a deep breath, gathering his strength, and  
gave one last giant blow.  
  
The ice cracked ready to swallow everything in its reach.  
  
***  
  
Tom awoke to the sound of the Captain and the Doctor talking.  
  
As soon as they realized that he was awake, Kathryn came closer  
and sat by his beside. He was still groggy and disoriented. She  
gently took one of his hand and caressed his forehead with the  
other.  
  
"How do you feel?" she asked with a welcoming smile.  
  
"Err... Confused... Relax, no pain... I... I was..." his raw  
voice trailed off as he tried to look around.  
  
"You were what, Tom?" Kathryn encouraged softly  
  
"Tu-Tuvok, I could of swore he was here," he told her.  
  
"He was for awhile," Janeway confirmed. "He mind-melded with you  
to help you get rid of the pain."  
  
"The bubble... right," he remembered. "It took the pain away," he  
explained. "Remind me to thank him."  
  
"You already did," she assured him with a smile.  
  
The Doctor handed a glass of cold water to Janeway so that she  
could help Tom drink some of it. Tom gladly took a few sips then  
dismissed the glass. His gaze wondered around again as he was  
still trying to get his bearings backs. A still form on the next  
biobed caught his eyes.  
  
"B'Elanna?" he inquired worriedly.  
  
"She's fine, Tom," the Doctor assured him. "The last few days has  
been hard on both of you. She needed some rest, so I gave her a  
mild sedative. She should wake up in 3 hours."  
  
"What am I doing to her?" he said as tears came running down his  
pale cheeks.  
  
"Sshh," Kathryn whispered as she dried his tears away. "It's not  
your fault, Tom."  
  
He swallowed a sob and sniffs a few times, slowly composing  
himself.  
  
"I do feel better," he finally said. "I'd like to go back to my  
quarters."  
  
"I thought you might," the Doctor said. He sighed before going  
on. "I'm afraid that the effects of the mind-meld won't last  
forever. Before I discharge you, we have to discuss a proper  
pain management plan."  
  
"Yeah, we do," Tom considered for a moment. "All I want is to  
see the most of the little time I have left. I don't want anymore  
drugs that will make me feel groggy or sleepy all the time."  
  
Kathryn gave a sideways look to the physician. She was not sure  
how to respond to Tom. He sensed it and quickly said:  
  
"I'm sorry, Captain. I didn't mean to put you ill at ease. I keep  
forgetting that all off you have not had the time to prepare for  
this as I have."  
  
"You seem so calm at the prospect of dying," she stated gently.  
  
"I've accepted that I'm going to die, so that I can enjoy the  
little time that I have left," he calmly told them. "But... But I  
don't want to die. Hell! With everything that happened to me over  
the years, I almost came to imagine that I would never die," he  
grinned. "Then again, I'm reminded of my inevitable mortality  
ever so often. So, I figured that the only thing I could do is to  
take one day at the time."  
  
He sighed. Kathryn squeezed his hand as a warm sign of comfort.  
  
"I can't stand the very idea that B'Elanna and I won't have a  
future together... I won't get to see my little girls all grown  
up... I won't be able to see Earth nor Kimira again. I'll never  
be able to see my father and show him who I have become." Tom  
stopped for a moment, then hold Kathryn's gaze. "But, I  
realized a long time ago that if I focus on those things I won't  
get to enjoy your company and share your friendship. If I focus  
on the negative, I won't make it past this week, and I'll get  
to do even less. So, I'm sorry if it bothers you and the others,  
but I'm going to do my best to stay in a good mood and focus on  
what I have and not on what I don't."   
  
He laid back and tried to relax in order to catch up his breath.  
  
The Captain sat beside him for several minutes before saying  
anything.  
  
"Thank you," she finally told him.  
  
"For what?" Tom asked curious.  
  
"For making me feel better," she replied with a small smile.  
  
"Your welcome," he said with a genuine smile of his own. He  
looked away reflectively, then his blue gaze flew back on her. A  
sad puppy face was creeping on his face. "Would it be a good time  
to ask for a favor?"  
  
She snorted. "I suppose so. What can I do for you, Mister?"  
  
"How's your cooking abilities?" he replied.  
  
She sat straighter definitely not liking were this conversation  
was heading.  
  
"Why do you asked?" she inquired on the defensive.  
  
"Well, the arrival of the Mist deserves a celebration, don't you  
think?" he began.  
  
"It certainly does," she agreed.  
  
"You see, it is custom in the Corridor for the Captain of the  
receiving ship -- in this case you, Captain -- to prepare a meal  
for the incoming visitors. It's a gesture of friendship, respect,  
and gratitude."  
  
"You want *me* to cook an *entire* meal?" she asked with true  
disbelief "Tom, I like to think that I'm respectful of order's  
cultures. But an *entire* meal?!"  
  
"And it has to be representative of what our lives has been  
here," Tom added.  
  
"You're not asking me to serve them leola roots dishes and other  
*colorful* creations Neelix has been cooking on top of everything  
else? You can't be serious?"  
  
"I am very serious," Tom stressed. "Hell! If we could stomach it,  
so will they! Now, I know that you don't like cooking," he said  
feeling guilty under her disconcerted look. "You don't have to do  
it alone. You can work with Neelix on this. Between the two of  
you, I'm confident in the results."  
  
Kathryn chuckled. "Me and Neelix cooking together... That's going  
to be something! A dream come true," she added sarcastically.  
  
***  
  
The ice cracked ready to swallow everything in its reach.  
  
Chakotay lowered himself flat on the icy surface and dove his  
hand into the freezing water. He fought his reflex of pulling it  
back as quickly by trying to ignore the pain. He could see Asa,  
the water was so clear. NO child could ever survive in this cold,  
his mind rationalized. Chakotay pulled back his hand and quickly  
rolled over. He sat on his heels. His gaze caught the Wolf eye.  
  
"No child can live under water," he said angrily.  
  
*You are being fooled, Chakotay, as you have been many times  
before in this place,* the Wolf said.  
  
Chakotay had to bitterly admit that he been tricked by Tom's  
numerous defense mechanisms many times before. Fortunately, he  
had learned to recognize them more and more since his first visit  
into the Winter Garden. He would not be tricked again. Not today.  
With assurance and determination, he dove his hand into the hole  
in the ice once more and grabbed a limb. He pulled as hard as  
he could -- fighting the water pressure -- until the small body  
surfaced. Chakotay reached for Asa with both hands and rapidity  
brought the two of them to safety.  
  
Asa instinctively put his arms around Chakotay's neck, but  
otherwise remained unresponsive.  
  
"It's over Kitten," Chakotay told the little one, hugging him for  
the dear life. "You are going to be all right."  
  
The commander sat the child on the bench. He took off his jacket,  
and wrapped it around him. He finally could have a look at the  
pale face. He felt a lump in his throat as he realized what was  
giving Asa's face its whiteness: a thin mask made mainly of white  
wax, decorate with tiny blue, green and red lines. As Chakotay  
traced the patterns with his finger, Asa stayed unresponsive, his  
clear blue eyes remained unfocused.  
  
"What have they done to you, Kitten?" he whispered sadly. He  
looked back at the wolf. "What do we, now?"  
  
*Now, we wait,* she replied.  
  
***  
  
The next few days went by quickly for some and slower for others.  
Tom was transferred to his quarters, where friends took turns  
watching over him. He was getting weaker, but did his best to  
maintain his good mood.  
  
"Tom, what are you doing?" B'Elanna asked softly as she walked in  
his bedroom.  
  
"Unless I have amnesia, this is how you dress, right?" he replied  
drawing a smile on B'Elanna's face. He struggled to put on his  
shirt on. Then, he rested for a second. It was aggravating to be  
exhausted by such frivolous things as dressing up. Putting the  
thought aside, he looked up at B'Elanna with a smile. "She's  
here, Bee."  
  
"Tom, the Mist isn't going to here for another two days," she  
told him sadly, knowing intuitively to what he was referring to.  
  
"She *is* here B'Elanna. Trust me, I know," he assured her.  
"Give me a hand, will you?"  
  
They left his quarters for the bridge, where they were happily  
greeted by Harry Kim.  
  
"Tom! Hi, it's good to see you around," the younger man said.  
"What brings you here?"  
  
"Good news, Harry. Good news," Tom told his friend. From the  
corner of his eye, he saw Janeway and Chakotay rise from their  
command chairs. "Captain, the Mist is almost here. She's ready to  
drop into normal space."  
  
"Already? This is great news Tom!" the captain exclaimed.  
  
An alarm at the OPS station drew their attention on Harry.  
  
"Confirmed, Captain," Harry told her. "We're receiving the Mist's  
drop-out zone coordinates right at this moment."  
  
Tom came closer to the consol and took a look at the read-outs.  
He instructed Harry to re-align the sensors to a specific   
frequency.   
  
"She coming awfully fast!" Tom said. "She will pass right by us  
if we don't match course and speed."  
  
Janeway exchanged a quick look with the Commander. "The bridge  
is yours, Tom," she told him with a smile. "Bring that ship to  
us."  
  
"Yes, Ma'am!" he enthusiastically replied as he nodded his  
appreciation. "Harry, initiate an intermittent Dedion particles  
beam, they'll be able to use it as a landmark," he said as he  
made his way down to the helm.  
  
Hamilton relinquished her chair. Tom had barely seated, when his  
fingers were already flying over the helm panel entering speed  
specifications, coordinates, and course extrapolations. He was  
back in the pilot chair once again -- probably for the last time  
-- and still feeling great! It was amazing how alive flying made  
him feel. He had to admit that adrenaline had a lot to do with  
it, especially in that very moment, but was it not what had drove  
him all his life, at least most of it? He turned the ship around  
so that the Mist would come out from behind them, and gradually  
increased speed to warp four.  
  
"The rift his opening," Harry announced.  
  
"On screen!" ordered Janeway.  
  
Tom spared a few seconds to gaze up at the screen. A bright blue  
beam was cutting through the darkness of space. In the middle of  
it -- in the middle?! -- a tiny dark spot was coming their way  
very fast. In that instant, Tom recognized that particular  
manoeuver and he increased Voyager's speed to warp six. Despite  
the ship internal dampers, he could feel Voyager quiver by the  
enormous energy wave that was pushing at their back, threatening  
to break them apart.  
  
The Mist cleared the opening of rift like a blue ball of fire,  
coming to Voyager's port side. The two ships raced through space  
at warp six for a few minutes before the smaller ship's velocity  
started to decrease until it finally stopped.   
  
Janeway covered the distance between Tom and herself. He looked  
up at her. She had the most beautiful smile on her face. Her grey  
eyes were sparkling with pure delight. She suddenly seemed so  
serene...  
  
They were not alone anymore -- *she* was not alone anymore -- he  
could not say how much it meant to him to see that smile of hers,  
that angelic look. Something told him, however, that his own  
expression was not as graceful, he could not shake away his  
astonishment of what had just transpired.  
  
Janeway looked back at the front screen and her eyes widen as her  
gaze tried to fix the smaller ship, which was about four decks  
tall.  
  
"Oh, my God!" she breathed. "Part of it is missing!"  
  
Tom snapped to attention, his blood suddenly running cold.  
  
"Where?" he asked failing to see what was wrong in the picture in  
front of him.  
  
"The front," Janeway pointed out. "The front part is missing."  
  
"She's starting to fade away," Chakotay added as he joined them  
at the helm.  
  
Tom chuckled as he finally realized what they meant.  
  
"Oh, no. She's fine. She's just perfect!" he reassured them.  
"That's why we call her the Mist."  
  
"Is she cloaked?" asked the Commander.  
  
"No, she's made of a Rudivian alloy that reflects certain  
wavelengths of light on it's black hull."  
"She seems more like a ghost to me," Harry commented.  
  
Tom cast a grin in his best friend direction. "Ghost ships have  
bad connotations attached to them. We tried to be imaginative."  
  
Harry snorted. "We're being hailed," he told them.  
  
Tom smile back at Janeway before telling Harry to open a channel.  
  
The Mist Flying Deck came into view, revealing a grey-haired male  
Vulcan standing behind the front consol and a human red-haired  
woman who was coming from behind to join the man.  
  
"The CORE maneuver?" was all Tom could say. "I'm impressed!"  
  
"You should be," Gwanna quipped. She reached for the chair and  
sat. "It's good to see you too, Asa. And wipe that smirk of your  
face!" she said.  
  
Tom chuckled "You do look a little green around the edges," he  
teased her.  
  
"Yeah well, now I understand why you said you'd never do that  
manoeuver again..." Gwanna took a deep breath. "Captain Janeway,  
I'm Gwanna Lancaster. My companion is Professor Semack. It's  
good to finally meet you."  
  
"You don't know just how happy we are to see you," Janeway said  
enthusiastically. "Welcome in the Delta Quadrant Ms Lancaster.  
Professor."  
  
"Thank you, Captain," the Vulcan told her. "But please, just call  
me Semack."  
  
"It would be my honor," Janeway replied. She looked at the  
younger woman. "And just Gwanna?"  
  
"Always," Gwanna replied with a smile. "Asa, do you want to be  
there when Audrey and Paul wake up?"  
  
"I'd like that," he replied more softly. "See you two in a  
minute." He stood up and tended his hand forward, inviting the  
captain to lead the way.  
  
She slid her arm around his, supporting him as they walked to the  
turbolift.  
  
"Don't you want to do this reunion in private?" she asked him.  
  
"Part of it," he replied. "Come'on, I'm dying to show you my  
ship!"  
  
Janeway grinned at boyish expression. "What about the dinner?"  
  
"Considering the circumstances, they can't hardly blame us for  
not having dinner ready yet," he replied. "It would be rather  
rude, don't you think? Chakotay, you're coming?" he asked  
pressing the commander along as well.  
  
***  
  
The instant transporters released Janeway, Chakotay, Harry, Tom,  
and B'Elanna of their grip, Kathryn had to remind herself to  
inhale, her breath stolen away by the sight in front of her.  
  
The Mist had by far the most majestic bridge -- correction:  
Flying Deck -- she had ever seen. At first glance, it looked more  
like a lounge than a command center. In the front portion, the  
floor included, was made of a transparent solid alloy that gave  
the impression that they were standing right into space. The  
*window* allowed the crew to have a peripheral view of what was  
coming their way. At that very moment, Voyager was proudly  
overprotecting them under her belly like a big sister.  
  
The Flying Deck might have seemed welcoming and comfortable at  
first, however one look at the upper level behind them clearly  
showed that the Mist had been designed for battle, and fast fancy  
flying. *Efficiency* was the word that was coming to mind. Inside  
and out, that little ship had Tom Paris' signature all over her!  
  
Kathryn smiled. She caught her pilot's eye as he was casting an  
amused glace from above his 6'4", with a I-told-you-so expression  
on his face.  
  
"Welcome on board The Mist," Tom told them with contentment.  
  
"And welcome home, Asa," Gwanna said as she was coming down from  
the upper level.  
  
"You don't look so good," Tom teased her attempting to diffuse  
the intense emotional atmosphere.  
  
"Neither do you, Asa," she murmured to him, her voice threatening  
to break into a sob. She looked up into his eyes, her hand gently  
caressing his cheek. "Ma'hen stovein t'Sha," she continued in a  
foreign language, her tone filled with sadness.  
  
"Ishta revon," he replied, his words brought a smile to her pale  
face. He kissed her forehead and gave her a last hug before  
stepping back. "Mack, thank you for coming," he said addressing  
the Vulcan. "Thank you for still standing by our side."  
  
"Your absence left a great void among us, my young friend," the  
older man told him taking a hold of Tom's shoulders in a fatherly  
manner. A gesture that dissolved into a hug.  
  
There was a level of understanding and respect between this  
century old Vulcan and thirty-four year old human that both  
warmed the heart and lead to wonder. Obviously, they had been  
important parts of each other's lives for a long time.  
  
Tom took a deep breath, composing himself -- mostly for Voyager's  
crew than for Gwanna and Semack's sake. Somehow, it bothered  
Kathryn.  
  
"You already have been introduced to Captain Janeway, the best  
captain I ever served with," Tom said with a smile. "Meet my good  
friend Commander Chakotay, my favorite sidekick Ensign Harry Kim,  
and the woman who stole my heart, Lieutenant B'Elanna Torres."  
  
"Chakotay, it is very good to see you again," Gwanna told the  
commander has they politely shook hands.  
  
One did not had to be a telepath to feel tension between the two  
of them. Something told Janeway that the two executive officers  
were more than mere acquaintances...  
  
Gwanna cleared her troat. She exchanged a nod with Semack. "The  
Admiral will have my head if I keep her in stasis a minute too  
long," she said more lightly. "How about if Semack gives you a  
tour of the Mist, while Tom and I go awake our sleepers?"  
  
"That would be nice," Janeway graciously agreed.  
  
***  
  
"It's true..." Audrey croaked seizing up Tom's appearance.  
  
His illness was all too obvious. One leukemia reoccurrence had  
been one too many. Why could they not cure him for good?! Her  
tears of joy transformed themselves in heartbreaking sobs. She  
knew she had to be strong. The last thing Tom needed was to keep  
her together on top of everything else. She just could not stop  
her sorrow, her pain, and her anger from overwhelming her. It was  
defeating her logic. Truth be told, she had not always made the  
most rational decisions when it came to the one who had been her  
reason for living. They had both paid heavy prices for those  
misguided decisions...  
  
"Sshh," Tom whispered as he brushed away her tears. "This is  
suppose to count among the best days of my life," he told her as  
he swallowed his own tears. "I'm so happy that you here, Lahuma."  
  
"I had this beautiful dream..." Audrey said hugging him for dear  
life. "You and I, the girls, your B'Elanna together for years to  
come." Her voice cracked. "You being sick wasn't part of it. Oh  
Asa, I'm so sorry."  
  
***  
  
When Semack returned to the Flying Deck enchanted companions,  
Tom, Audrey, Paul, and Gwanna were siting on the upper level  
step, gazing through space and sharing old memories, as they had  
done many time before.  
  
"Sorry, we're late," Chakotay apologized. "We had to drag  
B'Elanna out of engineering. She did not want to leave."  
  
Torres gave him a threatening look to the commander which changed  
into a smile as everyone laughed.  
  
"Neat little ship, isn't she?" Tom said proudly.  
  
"Are you kidding? She's incredible!" Harry exclaimed himself.  
  
"Personally," Chakotay began. "I can't wait to put my hands on  
the helm."  
  
"All in good time, Chakotay," Tom teased him.  
  
Audrey stood up and faced Kathryn Janeway.  
  
"Admiral Larsen," Janeway acknowledged. Her soft smile was  
graciously reflecting how honored and relieved she felt at that  
moment.  
  
Janeway's apparent serenity captured Tom's heart again. It made  
him feel at peace himself.  
  
"We like our friends to call us by our first names," Audrey told  
her taking Kathryn's hands and giving them a warm squeeze.  
  
"By all mean, you shall call me Kathryn, Audrey," Janeway said  
returning the older woman's smile. She made contact with every  
one of their new friends. "How can we ever thank you for taking  
such a risk?"  
  
"After we had news that you were still alive in the Delta  
Quadrant, we assured you that you weren't alone any more, and  
that we would do whatever we could to help you come home. It  
seems it was the best thing we could come up with," she added  
with a grin.  
  
"We probably did crazier things," Gwanna put in.  
  
Paul snorted.  
  
"The thing is," Audrey went on. "Every single one of you deserve  
to come home. You have love ones waiting for you back there. We  
had the chance to meet with a lot of them. I won't hide from you  
that they have moved on with their lives -- as you have -- but  
let me tell you that none of them is ready to give up on you."  
  
Kathryn could only nod her acknowledgment.  
  
"I'm sure Auckland will be thrill to have me back," Tom joked.  
  
"They're actually waiting for you with a brick and a lantern,"  
Gwanna joked back.  
  
They shared a mischievous grin.  
  
Audrey, Paul, and Voyager's senior staff formally introduced  
themselves, while Tom, sitting in the pilot's chair to the  
side contemplated Chakotay and Gwanna. Awkward sideways looks  
kept passing between the two. Tom might have been looking for  
them, but he was quite sure they were not by-products of his  
rather vivid imagination. Something had to be done about this  
*situation*, the sooner the better. There could not be any  
animosity between the two ships' executives officers, especially  
if Gwanna was to take his place, which unfortunately could too  
soon. The dull ache that had started to creep through his body  
was confirming it.  
  
He gave himself a mental kick, so to speak. There was no point in  
dwelling about his eminent mortality right now. Although, with  
most of his *family* present, it was hard not to. He forced his  
mind to come back to the matter at hand. The distance Gwanna and  
Chakotay were respectfully keeping between one another just  
confirmed that his plan would be worth the risk after all.  
  
"Tom, are you all right?" asked B'Elanna, which drew a few  
concerned look from everyone else. "You seemed light-years  
away for a moment."  
  
"I guess I was. I'm sorry," he apologized. Addressing himself to  
the Mist crew, he went on. "I'm just glad that you're all here.  
And... To keep on with the tradition, Captain Janeway agreed to  
prepare a Heshvan Dinner."  
  
"So, you conned the good Captain into cooking, haven't you?"  
Paul said giving a sympathetic smile to Janeway.  
  
"It's her ship!" Tom defended himself. If they only knew how many  
times they had been reminded of that . "And who the hell I am to  
break traditions?"  
  
His friends snorted and chuckled.  
  
"Try another one, Helmboy," B'Elanna told him.  
  
"Helmboy, huh?" Gwanna said teasingly. "I like that."  
  
"Now careful, Ginger," Tom warned her. "What time is it anyway?"  
  
"It's passed 1400 hours," Chakotay replied.  
  
"How about we have dinner at 1900 hours," Tom suggested. "It  
would give you guys time to settle down. You could have light  
breakfast meanwhile."  
  
"Sounds good," Janeway approved.  
  
"I could use a coffee," Paul said.  
  
"I could use a bath," Gwanna put in. "A real bath, with real  
water, with real candles... You can spare the candles, can't you  
Helmboy?" she finally asked Tom with a gorgeous smile that was  
running from ear to ear.  
  
"I have a huge stack of candles waiting just for you. I'm sure  
I can even find you some very special bubble bath if you stop  
calling me Helmboy," he said matching her grin. "But first --"  
  
"But first, we need to talk," she finished for him. "I know.  
Business always comes first."  
  
"It shouldn't be long," Tom assured Audrey.  
  
"Take your time. Meanwhile, B'Elanna and I will get properly  
acquainted," Audrey told him, acknowledging what they had  
previously agreed upon.  
  
***  
  
Gwanna brought the warm cup of coffee to her lips. It tasted so  
good, even for a replicated one. Tom came out from his bedroom  
with his promised stack of candles and a golden box.  
  
"I was joking about the candles," she told him as she looked up  
from the padd she had been reading. "Almost, I'll admit."  
  
"So, what do you think?" Tom asked, clearly referring to her  
reading material.  
  
She looked at him placing candles sticks all around the living  
room and the bathroom. She smiled. He had not forgotten about her  
guilty pleasure. A personal treat that she had been sharing with  
her sister, Loreena. Tom had surely seen both of them take a lot  
of candle-lit baths over the years. He was barely listening to  
her comments about Voyager's state of readiness for the upcoming  
mission. He was so engrossed in what he was doing. It lead her to  
wondered if the friendly gesture was bringing him some kind of  
closure.  
  
"Sorry," he apologized. "You were saying?"  
  
"I said: you and the rest of the crew -- mainly the Commander, as  
I can see -- did an amazing job," she told him.  
  
"Chakotay caught on pretty quickly," he said. "You and him...?"  
he purposefully trailed off.  
  
"Chakotay and I are both professionals," Gwanna replied more  
defensively than she intended. "We can work past our conflicts."  
  
"I'm sure that you can," he said. "I just had to make certain."  
He gave an embarrassed smile before coming to sit beside her on  
the couch. He gave her the box.  
  
"Go ahead, open it."  
  
She delicately unwrapped the golden paper and pulled out a S-like  
made of carved crystal, and filled with a purple thick liquid.  
  
"Oh, Asa! It was Loreena's favorite!"  
  
"And your second. Didn't I promise a very special kind of bubble  
bath?"  
  
"Yes you did," she said hugging him lovingly. "Thank you."  
  
She could not help but notice, that it felt as if she could feel  
all his ribs.  
  
"It's not much," he said. "I..." he drew in a breath, fighting  
his overwhelming emotion. "I just missed you so much, sister."  
  
"I know. I feel the same," Gwanna said kissing his forehead. God,  
she could not bear the thought of losing him again.  
  
"Well, you better get the water running if you ever want to take  
that bath before dinner. You have a little more than an hour and  
a half left."  
  
"I guess you're right," she agreed pulling herself away.  
  
"I'll finish lighting the candles and leave you in peace," Tom  
comment as he got up. "Audrey and B'Elanna are waiting for me."  
  
***  
  
Chakotay made his way down Voyager's Corridor, nervously playing  
with a padd in his hands. This was ridiculous, he reprimanded  
himself. He was acting like a teenager. At least, his body was  
acting as if he was one. So, there was some unresolved issues --  
or frustrations... -- between him and Gwanna. But, life had moved  
on. The past was behind them. They were both professionals. Their  
past involvement could not possibly interfere with their work.  
He could not let that happen. Tom was particularly counting on  
the both of them to see to the success of their mission. He would  
have to make things clear with her that nobody had to know about  
the two of them. But, before he could do that, he would have to  
overcome his bitterness, his anger, his feeling of betrayal... He  
felt himself go hard. And, overcome especially that!  
  
He took a few calming breaths, then ran the door chime.  
  
"It's safe to enter," he heard her called.  
  
The door opened and made his way in the candle lit living room.  
  
"You forgot something?" she asked from the bathroom.  
  
Candles-lit bubble baths, he remembered those. He cleared his  
throat. This was awkward enough.  
  
"Err... It's Chakotay, Gwanna," he announced himself."We're  
suppose to meet," he added.  
  
"I'm afraid Tom isn't here yet." she said. "Well, I'm the  
bathtub. As I said, it's safe to come in."  
  
He was not too sure about that one. Still, he walked to the  
bathroom door frame. He caught the glow of her skin from the  
corner of his eye.  
  
"Now, Chakotay," Gwanna chided. "Don't be a prude. It's not like  
you never saw a woman take a bath before. It's not like you never  
saw me naked before."  
  
*Oh Spirit. Calm down, Chakotay,* he told himself. *You're a  
grown man... which is an important part of the problem.*  
  
"Well," he began embarrassed, purposefully not looking at her.  
"Tom called me and asked that I gave him fifteen minutes, then  
that I meet with him in his quarters..."  
  
Tom, huh? This *situation* was starting to make sense. Now, what  
did Tom know about them?.  
  
Gwanna laughed. The sweetest sound in the universe. "It seems  
that we been set-up by the master."  
  
"It seems that way, doesn't it," he agreed.  
  
He could not avoid glancing at her anymore. She was so beautiful.  
Her auburn hair pulled up enhancing the smooth curve of her neck.  
Her skin had taken on a glowing honey color. Her eyes were  
twinkling with mischief as she sedulously looked back at him.  
  
"Well, we'll have to do something about this," she said before  
graciously standing up.  
  
He quickly took the towel left on the counter and extended it  
before her, ready to roll it around her sensual body. She stepped  
out of the bath. Turning her back to him, she tied the towel  
around her, then faced him again.  
  
"Thank you," she said, holding his gaze.  
  
She had this angelic smile on her face, an inviting looking in  
her green eyes. He knew he was caught in her web, in the  
entanglement of his own desire.  
  
Their lips met, first tenderly, then more and more passionately.  
  
The towel dropped to the floor.  
  
***  
  
"What is it?" she asked, her fingers playing with his chest hair.  
  
Chakotay looked around, then met her gaze. The bright embers of  
sex had died down and they were thinking beings again.  
  
"Just that... well. We just made love in *Tom's bed*," he said.  
  
Gwanna kissed him at the base of his neck. "I think that we did.  
Isn't he the greatest friend you ever had?!" She laughed at his  
perplex expression. "So Chakotay, you're a typical man after all,  
aren't you? Have sex and think later."  
  
"Now, that's not fair, Eve," he defended himself.  
  
"Chakotay, do you really think that Tom Paris would mind that his  
soul-sister made love with his former nemesis in his own bed?"  
  
"I suppose that he could not think of a better place," he said  
thinking back at Tom's former womanizer reputation. He caught her  
eye. "Soul-sister?"  
  
"It's a long story," she replied.  
  
She kissed him before he could say more. She rolled back, her  
head on his shoulder, as they enjoyed the comfort of their two  
bodies embraced in one another.  
  
"What's that?" he asked moment later. A small envelop had been  
left leaning on a candle stick on the bedside the table. "It's  
addressed to you," he told Gwanna.  
  
She delicately unfolded the envelop and retrieve a small card.  
She smiled as she read it.  
  
"What does it say?" asked Chakotay.  
  
She handed him the card.  
  
They chuckled together.  
  
***  
  
The door of the Mess Hall hissed opened, Audrey, Tom, and  
B'Elanna walked in drawing a round of applause from the crowd.  
Audrey and Tom acknowledged the honor graciously, then they made  
their way toward the kitchen where they found Kathryn and Neelix.  
  
The decorations that the Talaxian had placed here and there had  
made the Mess Hall warm and welcoming. It promised to be a  
wonderful evening. All around Voyager, the atmosphere was one of  
celebration and joy. The arrival of the Mist was for many the  
best thing that had happened to Voyager since their being in the  
Delta Quadrant. The crew could hope once again of returning home  
to their love ones. It could not get any better than this.  
  
"Audrey, meet Neelix: cook, self-appointed moral officer, pilot,  
trader, ambassador, you name it! Best of all, good friend."  
  
The little alien came from behind the counter and took Audrey's  
hand. "Admiral, it is a pleasure to finally meet you," he said as  
happily as ever. "Would you care for some fruit punch and hors-  
d'oeuvres."  
  
"Careful, that green stuff over there is very spicy" warned Tom,  
shifting the little package he was holding into his other hand.  
  
"One thing is sure, it smells terrific!" Audrey told the two  
cooks.  
  
"Captain Janeway found hidden talents," Neelix was happy to  
report. "She has quite a flare for someone who rarely cooks."  
  
"Would you believe that it's been almost six years and that Mr.  
Neelix still thinks that he can get his way with flattery," said  
Kathryn giving the Talaxian a teasing smile.  
  
"Oh Captain, don't undermine your abilities," Neelix retorted.  
  
Tom's gaze flew over the room until he found the one he was  
looking for.  
  
"Will you all please excuse me, there's someone I need to talk  
to." He walked across the room. "Doc, can I talk to you for a  
minute?"  
  
"Of course, Tom," the EMH said. "Is something wrong?"  
  
"Everything is fine," Tom assure him. "This is for you," he said  
presenting a green wrapped box.  
  
"A gift? For me?" he asked happily surprised.  
  
They sat at the nearby table. The Doctor carefully unwrapped box  
as if it was the most fragile thing he had ever dealt with. With  
delight, he took out a twentieth century 35mm professional  
camera.  
  
"I found this going through my stuff on the Mist. It used to  
belong to Loreena," Tom explained. "I can't think of a better  
person to hold on to it."  
  
"Tom... I don't know what say... Thank you."  
  
"My pleasure, Doc," Tom replied. "There's black and white and  
color rolls in the box. Have fun, just don't over do it."  
  
As Tom made is way back toward the kitchen, where Audrey and  
Kathryn were talking, Gwanna and Chakotay walked in together.  
  
"Now, look at what the cat brought in," he said. "Will we be all  
right?" he asked Gwanna.  
  
"We certainly will. Although, your methods were rather  
unconventional," she told him with a smile.  
  
"*Eccentric* is my middle name," he stated.  
  
"I know. *Trouble* being your first name," she retorted.  
  
***  
  
They had sat down to a wonderful meal. Neelix and Kathryn had  
really outdone themselves. To Voyager's crew, Delta Quadrant   
cooking had never tasted better. Tom had even nibbled on a few  
morsels throughout the evening. For their friends, it was an  
interesting experience, as Semack had put it.  
  
Conversations were joyous. The visitors were telling tales of  
the Alpha Quadrant. They brought them up to date about the war  
with the Dominion. They also had news about a lot of the love  
ones the Voyager's crew had left behind. The trip had taken  
months to prepare and all the bases had been covered.  
  
"With all this good news, I feel like Mother Santa," Audrey had  
said as she had distributed letters around.  
  
Voyager's crew told their visitors about many of their adventures  
in the Delta Quadrant. Towards the end, Tom had started to doze  
at the table. The day had been a long one for him. It would have  
been emotionally draining for anyone, but for him who had started  
the day weak, all his energy had been depleted.  
  
"Tom, how about we go to your quarters and retire for the night?"  
B'Elanna asked him gently.  
  
He nodded weakly and pushed his chair back. B'Elanna  
helped him up, she could fell his now soft muscles quivered under  
the strain it took for him to maintain a standing position.  
  
"It's seems that it's past my bedtime," he told them, the  
strength of his voice trying to mask his state of frailty. "Good  
night everybody."  
  
"Rest well, Asa," Gwanna said to him. "I'll come and check on you  
later, okay?"  
  
"I'd like that. Just like old times," he added with a smile.  
  
"Yes, like old times," she watched him leave the room, laying  
heavily on B'Elanna's arm. Her heart quenched. She had to take a  
few deep breaths as not to cry.  
  
"It's so hard to see him like this," Janeway said in a low voice.  
  
"I've seen him like this twice before," Audrey said. "It has not  
gotten any easier. How long does he have, Doctor?"  
  
"According to my last scans, not much more than a week. However,  
knowing him, he could hang on longer."  
  
"He is a survivor," Semack pointed out. "But, he has accepted  
that his time has come. He will not delay the unavoidable." His  
voice was the embodiment of Vulcan logic.  
  
Everyone was silent for a while. At first it was awkward. Then it  
became something else. It was the knowledge that everyone in the  
room was sharing the same pain. They were all losing a dear  
friend. At that moment, they knew how each other felt, because  
everyone's emotion was their own. It was the step they all needed  
in order to fully accept what was happening to Tom. They were sad  
-- mainly for each other -- for Tom, they would all move on and  
do the best they could with their lives.  
  
The moment was shattered with a sharp intake of breath on  
Gwanna's part. The glass that was in her hand, had fallen to the  
table.  
  
Chakotay abruptly turned towards her.  
  
"Chakotay, you're sure nobody had his way with the punch?" Gwanna  
asked. "I don't feel so good." She had barely got out these last  
words before hitting the floor.  
  
Chakotay was the first at her side, moving the chair away and  
making room. Then, he knelt beside her, his ear close to her  
face.  
  
"She's not breathing!" he exclaimed alarmed.  
  
In the instant a few seconds, the doctor was at their side.  
  
"Looks like anaphylactic shock. Her airways have swollen shut.  
Medical emergency. Two to transport to sickbay."  
  
A half a second later, their forms shimmered out of the  
existence.  
  
"Neelix, we need to compile everything that Gwanna might have  
eaten and see if we can figure out what could have made her  
sick," Paul said already on top of things.  
  
"Of course," Neelix said leading the way to the kitchen.  
  
"I'm sure, she'll be fine," Kathryn whispered to Audrey as  
reassuringly as she could.  
  
"She has to be," Audrey breathed. "I couldn't bear losing both  
of them."  
  
***  
  
Hours later, the doctor had restored Gwanna to health. Immediate  
life support, and a dose of antihistamines had reversed the  
severe allergic reaction.  
  
"Can I go now, Doctor?" she impatiently asked. "I'm feeling fine.  
I promise to only eat what I know."  
  
"You do realize that you have just experienced a very life  
threatening reaction," the EMH emphasized.  
  
"Yes, Doctor. I fully understand what anaphylactic shock is. But,  
I'm fine, now. It's been hours, the stuff is out of my system by  
now. I'll even go back to my room and rest for a while," she  
added as a concession.  
  
"What is wrong with my sickbay?" The Doctor asked. "Everybody  
always wants to leave. Is it me?"  
  
"No, of course not, Doctor," Gwanna, answered shaking her head.  
"I like your opera singing and all, it's just... well there  
nothing more comfortable than your own bed."  
  
"I'll keep an eye on her," said Chakotay, who had been near her  
side through the whole ordeal.  
  
"All right then," The Doctor said caving in. "But come by in six  
hours, so that I can check to see if everything is fine."  
  
Gwanna was on her feet and on her way to the door, as soon as the  
Doctor had spoken.  
  
She did not have time to finish saying 'Thank you' when the words  
caught in her throat. She had fallen to the floor gasping for  
air.  
  
With in seconds, Chakotay had returned her to the biobed.  
  
"Always in so much hurry to leave me," he physician was muttering  
to himself as he worked to stabilize his patient. "And look where  
it leads them."  
  
"What's wrong with her, Doctor?" Chakotay was asking, worried  
sick.  
  
"She's gone back into shock," the physician stated the obvious.  
  
He placed her on life support and administered an other dose of  
antihistamines. "Whatever she is allergic to is still in her  
system."  
  
The same thing occurred again, as soon as the antihistamines had  
left Gwanna's system. The Doctor had to keep re-administering the  
drugs as soon as they started to wear out. These periods were  
getting shorted and shorter. It was as if her body was getting  
use to the artificial hormone and not responding it as well.  
  
Chakotay had not left her one moment since the supper, almost  
twelve hours before.  
  
"You should go and get some rest," the Doctor told him.  
  
"No, I want to stay with her," he argued hastily.  
  
"Some can't stay, while others can't leave," the physician  
mumbled to himself. "Take it as an order, Commander. Go and  
rest."  
  
"Fine," Chakotay consented. "Call me if there is any change."  
  
"I will."  
  
Chakotay walked out of sickbay. He was not ready to go to bed.  
How could he ever sleep anyway. He stopped at the Mess Hall, to  
see if Paul and Neelix had been successful in determining what  
was had affected Gwenna.  
  
"Any luck?" Chakotay asked them.  
  
"It's been hours and I still can't pinpoint anything that could  
make her react like this. It could be a number of things," Paul  
replied gazing had the readings of this tricorder. "I have a few  
ideas, but I'll have to concur with the Doctor."  
  
Chakotay was tempted to go back to sickbay with Paul, but decided  
to move on. He went to see Tom. B'Elanna had dozed off on the  
couch. He took care not to make any noise and went into his  
friend's bedroom. The young man's condition had deteriorated in  
the few hours since he had last seen him. He was pale. His skin  
as thin as paper, like that of an old man. It looked as if he had  
lost even more weight in that short period of time. There was a  
new bruise on the back of his hand that was resting on his chest.  
  
Tom opened his eyes, and smiled weakly in greeting.  
  
"How are you doing?" Chakotay asked.  
  
"I've been better. But, I've been worse." His answer were almost  
a whisper.  
  
"Can I get you anything?" the commander asked softly.  
  
"No." Tom was distracted for a few moments. He was staring at  
something beyond Chakotay's head. Finally, he said:" Gwanna  
didn't come to see me last night."  
  
Chakotay was not sure how to break the news to his fragile  
friend.  
  
Tom did it for him. "Something has happened," He said knowingly.  
  
"She is having a severe allergic reaction to something she ate  
last night."  
  
"She'll be all right," Tom stated.  
  
Chakotay could detect the certainty behind Tom's weak words. It  
was as if he knew something no one else knew. Maybe death was  
giving him insight none of the living possessed, but Chakotay  
never had a chance to ask as Tom quickly fell back to sleep. He  
reached for Tom's hand in order to put it under the cover and a  
draft a cold air slapped him in the face.  
  
He wondered if he would ever get used to his vision striking him  
like that without warning. He looked around. Asa was laying on  
the bench cuddled in the Wolf's fur, Mr. Blue at his feet.  
Chakotay approached slowly and knelt in front of them. Asa's gaze  
was still unfocussed. With the thin mask of wax covering his  
face, it was hard to see his true condition. But, Chakotay knew  
something was not right. A lot of things were not right, as he  
thought about it.  
  
"He is sick, isn't he?" he said.  
  
"The poison is running its course," the wolf explained sadly.  
  
"What poison?" Chakotay insisted. "You mean the cancer?"  
  
"What came before the cancer," his animal guide said. "Your  
friends are travelling the same path in different ways."  
  
As he started to understand what the wolf was implying, Chakotay  
reverted into the reality. He squeezed Tom's hand, told him to  
hang in there a little bit longer, and then left purposely for  
sickbay, without waking B'Elanna.  
  
***  
  
B'Elanna exchanged one last apprehensive look with Audrey and the  
Doctor before siting beside her mate on the edge of the his bed.  
  
"Tom," she called softly. "Tom, you have to wake up."  
  
He had gotten so weak in such a short time. She hated seeing  
him in that condition, yet she could not tear herself away from  
him. His skin was pale and clammy. He was way too thin. He had  
not left his bed since the day the Mist had arrived almost three  
days earlier. He had not been able to eat real food either,  
partially because he did not feel like it, and partially because  
he could not hold anything down. He was surviving on intravenous  
nourishment, he had nicknamed the Doc's brew.  
  
Tom opened his eyes and attempted feebly to stretch.  
  
"Umm.... Bee, you're still here."  
  
"Where would I go?" she said on a teasing tone. "Audrey and the  
Doctor are here as well. He has something important to tell you."  
  
"What's up, Doc? Gwanna's okay?" Tom asked.  
  
With a silent common accord, B'Elanna gave up her place by Tom's  
side to the Doctor. Audrey came behind her and took a gentle hold  
B'Elanna's shoulder in a mutually supportive gesture.  
  
"She is doing fine. I released her to her quarters last night,"  
the Doctor said. "I have even better news."  
  
"Better news!" B'Elanna repeated looking back at Audrey with  
hopeful eyes. "What is it Doctor?" she asked hardly restraining  
her excitement.  
  
The Doctor put a hand on Tom's shoulder.  
  
"I have found the source of your cancer, my friend," the EMH  
proudly stated.  
  
At those words, Tom struggled to sit up. The Doctor helped him.  
He had disbelief written all over his face.  
  
"You did?" Tom managed to say."How?"  
  
"Don't keep us in suspense," B'Elanna implored the Doctor.  
  
"After we found out that Gwenna had a reaction to the Leola root,  
I discovered it was a fatty acid in the vegetable that had  
caused it. I also found that it was an intolerance aim  
specifically at her species. So, I wondered what it was doing to  
you, since you are part Kimerian."  
  
"*Leola root* is making Tom sick?" B'Elanna jumped in hardly  
believing what she was hearing. "I don't understand, he has been  
eating this stuff for five years. He is not allergic to it."  
  
"That's because it only works indirectly," the Doctor rapidly  
explained.  
  
"I knew that stuff was hard to stomach," Tom quipped.  
  
"I followed the path of the fatty acid though your system and  
found that it is interacting with a foreign amino acid that is  
in your system," the EHM went on.  
  
"An amino acid?" B'Elanna asked as if it was poison that  
someone had given to Tom. And in a way she was right.  
  
"Yes, it is not human nor Kimirian. Actually, I have no record  
of it in my data banks."  
  
"Could they have given it to Tom?" B'Elanna asked Audrey.  
  
"I don't know, maybe," the older woman replied. "One thing is  
certain, it's not coming from the Morning Mist, you never were  
exposed to it," she told Tom.  
  
"But, how is it giving me cancer?" Tom asked, calling the matter  
back to hand.  
  
"The amino acid links up with the fatty acid, and it is stored in  
your bone marrow. There, it interferes with the normal production  
of white blood cells..."  
  
"Causing the cancer." Tom concluded.  
  
"So what are you going to do about it?" B'Elanna prompted, eager  
to see things fixed.  
  
"First, I will remove the foreign amino acid using the  
transporters."  
  
"No, decytologenesis," Tom voiced, a trace of fear in his eyes.  
  
"No, nothing that radical. I'll simply program the computer to  
transport all of you at once except the foreign agent. Then,  
you'll undergo chemotherapy to kill the cancerous cells. A bone  
marrow transplant will be required. Finally, you'll undergo a  
series of surgeries to remove the tumors."  
  
"Then, he will be cured. No more cancer?" Audrey asked, afraid  
to believe it.  
  
"Not this one any ways," the Doctor said with some underlying  
reserves.  
  
"So I underwent all of it for nothing?" Tom said softly, almost  
plaintive.  
  
"All of it?" the Doctor wondered.  
  
"The decytologenesis, the chemo, the surgeries..." Tom  
enumerated.  
  
"Yes and no. They did not have the desired effects, but they  
pushed the cancer back into remission. I theorize that when  
placed under extreme the fatty and amino acid mix where taken  
from the bone marrow to the liver to be processed. They were  
broken apart. The fatty acid was excreted, while the amino acid  
was stored. The latter then awaited for more fatty acids, like  
the one found in leola root. Eventually, it got transferred back  
to the bone marrow, where the process started over again."  
  
"How long before Tom is cured?" B'Elanna asked, only interested  
in the final results.  
  
"It will not be an easy process," the Doctor replied, addressing  
himself to Tom. "But you should be fully recovered in three to  
four weeks, if everything goes according to plan."  
  
"When will you start?" Tom inquired, still dazed.  
  
"As soon as you are ready," the EMH stated.  
  
"I am now." Tom said, seeking support in order to get up.  
  
He had accepted death, but he had not given up on life.  
  
NEVER.  
  
***  
  
End of part 3.  
  
It took us quite some time, but we finally managed to get this  
monster out of the way! It was when we realized that we would  
need a fourth part to this story that things really got started  
for us.  
  
Look out for the fourth part: Corridor: "The Secret Pawn".  
  
BIG THANKS to Amanda B. and to PJ in NH for Beta reading this  
story.  
  
Thank you for reading.  
  
We need feed back at Synbou@hotmail.com.  
Don't be shy.  
Isabelle S. and Louise B. (A.k.A Synbou)  
  
Copyrights @ November 1999 


	4. The Secret Pawn

**A/N: This part of the _Corridor_ series was written back in 2001. Many years later, someone kindly asked me if the story had ever been finished. Unfortunately, the answer is no. That said, I did find the present part posted on another site. I cleaned it up a bit - still, the grammar is bad - but here it is. Maybe one day, the last part of this story (and of the _Neoplasm _series_)_ will get written. Thank you for reading.**

**Synbou**

**DISCLAIMER**: Tom Paris and the rest of Voyager's crew are Paramount's, but the story, the Amnesty, and unrelated characters are Synbou's. This is a P/T story rated PG-13.  
Set after the episode "_30 Days"_.

**SERIES WARNING: READ THE PRIOR STORIES!**

Prior stories in the "_Neoplasm Universe_".  
1) Neoplasm  
2) In The Dark  
3) Decytologenesis  
4) Corridor: The Secret Pain.  
5) Corridor: The Secret Past  
6) Corridor: The Secret Path

SYNOPSIS: The _Amnesty_ finally meets with _Voyager_. As Tom recovers, their journey in the Corridor begins.

**Corridor: The Secret Pawn - part A**

000

Chakotay had been visiting Asa everyday since he had rescued the child from the Winter Garden's icy pond. Each time, he noticed that the days were growing longer and warmer. The cold wind had died down. The snow was melting under the bright sun. The hole in the ice covering the pond was getting larger and larger. Winter was gradually giving away to a long overdue Spring.

The new season was a time for rebirth for Tom and Asa. In the physical realm, Tom had finally gotten the upper hand on his cancer. The curing treatment had been quick and efficient, however the road to full recovery was proving to be a long one. Had Tom not been so worried about taking _Voyager_ and the _Amnesty_ into the Corridor, his convalesce would have been a lot easier. On the other hand, had it not been for the arrival of the _Mist_ and Gwanna's reaction to leola roots, they would have lost Tom quite some time ago. All things considered, Chakotay was confident that, surrounded by the support of both the _Amnesty's_ crew and _Voyager's_, Tom would be back to his old self in no time.

In the spiritual realm, Chakotay was pleased to see Asa getting better as well. The mask of wax that had covered the child's face had slowly melted under the warm sun. With a wet piece of his uniform, Chakotay had cleaned away the remaining of the white substance. It was with relief that he observed Asa's smooth baby skin being free of scars.

The young boy was slow to warm up, but it was an ongoing process. He had first reacted to Mr. Blue's presence, then to the wolf. Eventually, Asa started to show hint of recognition upon Chakotay's return.

That simple flicker in Asa's beautiful blue eyes had pleased the Native American to no end. However, it had been nothing compared to the joy he had felt the day Asa had got off the bench and walked down the path to meet him. Now, Chakotay was only waiting for the child to say his first words to him. He knew from the interactions between Tom and Gwanna that Asa was likely to speak another language. Chakotay did not care in which one the words would come, as long as they did.

000

Four months after the _Amnesty's_ departure from the Alpha Quadrant and six weeks since the arrival of _The Mist_ into the Delta Quadrant, _Voyager_ and her crew were ready to begin their journey into the Corridor, under the protection and the guidance of the _Amnesty_. Of course, the event called for a celebration. On the night before the D-Day, a huge party was organized.

Paul could hear the music from down the hall. The party was being held at _The Distant Waters,_ the holographic reconstruction of one of Port-Ayalexis most popular Pub. Coming in, Paul found Neelix tending the bar that faced the entrance. To its right, Harry and his band were performing on a small stage. The jazz was a bit out of place, but still quite nice. In the left corner, sharing a table with Audrey, Paul found the object of his desire; Kathryn.

"Good evening, Ladies," he greeted in his most charming voice.

"Good evening, Paul," Kathryn said as she tipped her head. "Care to join us?"

The small gesture made his heart skip a beat, she was the most intoxicating woman he had ever met.

"I am too weak of a man to refuse such an offer." He took her hand and place a kiss on her wrist. "You look lovely tonight." He added.

"Thank you," said Kathryn, as a red hue coloured her cheeks.

Quick to realize that Cupid was at work here, Audrey decided it was in their best interest - especially her own - to make an hasty retreat and leave Paul and Kathryn at their own games.

"If you'll excuse me, I got some things I want to say to Tom. "Good evening."

The two love birds barely noticed her departure.

As the Admiral made her way towards her nephiew, Audrey passed by Amber and Tuvok playing Kalto. It was an interesting sight to see a Klingon playing a Vulcan game and being quite good at it. Then again, Amber was not the typical Klingon...

Tom was sitting near the stage, B'Elanna at his sides. Chakotay and Gwanna were sharing a short bench across from them, their back to the painted window. They laughed as Doctor Margo told them another one of her funny medical anecdote from across the table. Margo was a petite woman, but her voice was strong and could carry far. As Audrey got closer, she hoped to catch part of the story, but missed the punch line.

"So that is why I have not seen Patrick around," said Tom smiling. Something caught his attention as he looked upwards to the second floor. Discreetly, he excused himself.

As he arrived upstairs, Tom quickly found Dale leaning on the railing that overlooked the band and dance floor. He was an elegant man and every inch a charmer. He loved women and all those who visited his quarters were rumoured to never have regretted it. However, if Dale had been in the company of any other of _Voyager's_ female crew member, Tom would have left them alone. He felt different when it came to Seven Of Nine. She had no idea what she was getting into and was even less ready to deal with someone like Dale Kinkade.

"Dale, a word in private," Tom said.

"Oh, Tommy Boy, don't you see I'm talking to a lady?" he pleaded in his most sensual, thick Irish accented voice.

"Seven, please go downstairs," Tom told her very seriously.

"Yes Tom," she said somewhat confused and took the stairs.

"Now, look what you've done!" Dale said angry. "I almost had her!"

"Listen carefully," Tom snapped. "Seven is off-limit. Got it?"

"Oh yeah, or what? L'tle Winter Boy's gonna kick my ass?"

The crowd of people standing around them suddenly fell quiet. No one was suppose to insult the Chosen Ones. Tom just stood there for a long moment. He was not going to lose his temper. He took several deep breaths and said low enough, for only Dale to hear:

"Or I could always transfer you to The _See-Seas_ for the rest of this trip," Dale cringed. "It's either my way or Amber's. It's your choice."

"Fine. I'm taking my business elsewhere," he said storming down the stairs, ready to find a new companion for the night.

Despite the unfortunate argument with the other man, Tom allowed himself a grin. This was bringing old memories. Looking down to the main level, he saw friends and family having a good time. A contented smile lit up his face.

000

Tom and B'Elanna retired to his quarters at the end of the evening. It had been a great party. It had boosted the moral of both crews. The food had been excellent. The music had been great. Now, Tom was standing in his living room, gazing down proudly at a very important piece of paper, held into a picture frame.

Earlier in the evening, the band had took a break. Audrey had taken a hold of Tom's arm and had dragged him to, the stage.

"Word had been floating around that we had another special occasion to celebrate tonight," she had begin. "In fact, it is a recognition overdue for at least six years. I would like to invite Professor Semack to join us to the stage and make the honours."

Tom had exchanged a looked with Audrey. Could it had been what he thought it was? Assuredly, he had saw the Vulcan come up on the stage, holding in his hands a big picture frame. Suddenly, Tom had felt butterflies in his stomach and had started to fidget with anticipation.

"Asa Thomas," the older man had addressed him solemnly. "As Yanka University's representative, it is my honour and privilege, as it was when you obtained the title of Doctor in Astrophysics, to present to you this doctorate diploma as an acknowledgment of your achievement in the field of Criminology. Congratulations, _Professor_ Asa Thomas Paris," he finished giving the recipient a hand shake.

The crowed applauded cheerfully as Tom took the picture frame, holding behind a glass a diploma printed in old fashion paper.

God, how he had wished that Loreena had been there to see his 'graduation'. Still, he had been no less happy to share the moment with B'Elanna, who was now putting the picture frame aside to have his full attention. She put her arms around his neck. Bending down slightly, he met her lips with his own. They kissed passionately.

"What are you thinking about?" she whispered.

"The past and about moving on," he told her vaguely. "I think that we'll make it."

"We?" she echoed, a knot forming in her throat.

Ever since he had fell sick, Tom had not considered himself to be among those who would come home.

"What do you mean by _we_," she asked more shakily than she intended.

He bit his lower lip. "I guess that, in the broad sense, I mean _us_ in this crew." He gently kissed her forehead. "There's no _me _without you, B'Elanna. At least, I don't want it to be. I love you too much."

"And I love you even more," she assured him with a gorgeous smile and bright brown eyes. "You're my whole world, Asa Thomas. There's no _me_ without _you_ either. At least, I don't want it to be."

Tom smiled down at her. "I suppose we'll have to do something about that."

"Oh? And that would be?" she asked teasingly.

"Well, actually it's a procedure that usually starts with a proposal," he told her, knelling. Holding her hands in both of his, he looked up at her with shining bleu eyes. "Would you marry me, B'Elanna Torres?"

She responded with a beaming smile. "Yes. Yes, I will."

He pulled her down into a passionate kiss.

"I love you, Tom."

"Humm... say it again, just to be sure."

"I love you Asa Tomas Paris."

000

Walking on the flying deck of the _Mist_, Tom took several deep breaths. Three days ago, Margo had given him flying clearance. There was no trace of the disease in his body and he was once again at the top of his shape. For the first time in months, he felt really good. Everything was just right. The icing on the cake was that the Alpha Quadrant was a few short months away, and not several long decades.

Soon he would be reunited with his little girls. A smile tickled Tom's lips as the thought had crossed his mind.

"All systems clear. We are ready to go," Gwanna said from her post.

Tom took another deep breath. He cleared his mind of everything and fully opened himself to the 'currents' around him. Once ready, he activated the holographic flight  
panel. This was the point of no return.

From ship to ship the message echoed: "Flight panel activated."

Everyone braced for entry into the Corridor.

Tom took one last deep breath and closed his eyes. He could feel the Corridor ahead of his ship. He could feel it like one standing beside a huge river, where misty wind currents hit the skin. Tom searched for several moments for an Entry Vector. He had to find one that went perpendicular to the others, leading inwards. It had to be large enough, and smooth enough to carry all ships. Finally, he found one. He opened his eyes and began to navigate the ships into the 'Current'.

"Here we go!" The pilot said as his hands danced over the panel projected before him. In response, it shone with a rainbow of coloured lights. "Transition in ... five...four... three... two...ONE!"

On his mark, the ships began to shake violently. It was as if it had stepped into a cyclone. The current was turbulent, pushing the ships from one side to the other. It took all the pilots' training and talent to keep all the ships from colliding with each other. That part, at least, was not Tom's job. His was to lead the way. It was up to the others to keep things together.

The transition hit Tom hard. However, his mind never wondered from the task at hand. He kept the ships in the calmest Current he had found. It still felt like the worst. It was almost as if wind driven freezing rain was hitting every part of his body. He could have sworn that each 'ice pellet" bruised his skin. The bruising was known to occur to some pilots, but it had never happened to him.

People were probably starting to feel the motion sickness at this point. At the back of his mind, Tom wondered how B'Elanna and those on Voyager were doing. Suddenly, he felt the first _inter-layer_ approaching. Within seconds they would breach the Wall.

"Ending transition in... five... four... three... two... ONE!" The Chief pilot announced.

On cue, the ships ceased shaking. Costant gentled vibrations, typical of the Corridor could now be felt. Tom laid back against his chair. He left out the deep breath he had been holding for the last few seconds of the trip.

"Status," he whispered as his energy drained from his body. He hurt from head to toe as if he had crossed three upped inter-layers at once.

"This... This is impossible," he heard Gwanna choked with disbelief. "Semack?"

"What the hell just happened?" came Amber's voice over the comn channel.

"Conforming position," announced Semack. "Position: I01- OP450"

"I01?..." echoed Tom shakily. "Gwanna?"

"Everyone is in one piece," Gwanna reported. "All systems are within parameters. Janeway reports that Voyager held up better than planed. We made it, Asa! We're just not where we planned to be. We reached the _very_ center in _one_ step!"

Shouts of joy and amazement could be overheard on the speakers from every department. The only place they were louder was on the fight deck of the _Mist_.

"Asa! You did the impossible!" Gwanna said as she came around to the pilot's chair. She found him out cold. His skin color was the deep blue of a bruise, as if it covered his whole body.

"Oh My... Margo!" she yelled in panic over the comm. "We got to get Asa to the Medlab."

"I got him, Gwanna," the doctor said. Using the transporter s, she transfered Tom in a regeneration tank.

000  
An hour later

"What happened?" Janeway asked the _Mist'_s CMO.

It had taken Kathryn almost half an hour to recover from the motion sickness that had overcome her during the transition. It was not something she cared to experience again. The humiliation of not being able to stay at her post had been almost worse than the vomiting and dizziness that had assaulted her.

Upon her recovery, Kathryn had been informed that Tom had not taken the transition too well either. She had wanted to come over to the _Mist_ at that very moment, but duty had kept her on _Voyager_. She was to take care of her own before seeing to the others. And somehow, Tom had become part of the _other_ crew. The thought had sadden her.

Tom now laid in a large cylindrical tub of blueish 'goo' for a lack of a better term. There was a purplish halo all around his naked body. The diagnostic and monitoring systems were located in a critical position over the tub, preserving the patients dignity.

"Those who navigate the Corridor feel the changes of pressure a bit like we feel wind on our skin. Some times, the high pressures of the upper _inter-layers_ squeeze the blood out of the capillaries at the surface of their skin, causing major bruising. As long as the formation of blood cloths are prevented and the blood is removed, the pilot recovers in a few hours. The regeneration tank accelerates the healing process. Thomas should be waking up in the next few minutes."

"It happens in the upper _inter-layers_," Janeway repeated. "And we reached the center on our first entry, no wonder Tom's body is so battered."

"I never seen anything like that before," Margo admitted. "Oh, I know some Elshans have very special abilities, but Tom never did something like that in pass."

"Those Elshans, are they the ones who disappears?" inquired the Captain.

"I'm afraid so," Margo replied sadly. "They are the most valued possession in the Corridor. Having such good pilots ensure manoeuvrability, hence power. Those special people are enslaved and exploited until their death." Shaking her head in a mix of sadness and dismay, Margo walked away.

Janeway remained silent, empathizing with the situation. She walked over to where Tom was laying. Thoughts of what he might have been through when he disappeared as a child sent shivers up her spine. She looked down at his still form. 'He looks dead' she thought. When she realized what had crossed her mind, she closed her eyes and chassed it away with a deep breath.

000

In the privacy of his quarter on the _Mist_, Tom faced Audrey, Semack, and Dominick.

"What happened?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" voiced Audrey.

"You _know_ what I mean," he refuted angrily. "The kind of entry we did in the Corridor is not possible."

"Obviously it is, Asa," Semack said in pure logic.

"Semack," Tom warned. He was in no mood to humour the Vulcan at the moment. "I never been able to do something like that before. How come I can all the sudden?"

"The elements changed," Dominick answered. "You changed."

"The amino acid," said Tom.

Its removal was the only thing that could have changed him - his DNA. Well, maybe not quite considering all the damages chemotherapy had done to him in the last months. Still...

"We think so, yes," confirmed Audrey. "The Doctor, Margo, and I checked and rechecked all of your medical history. You're not born with it."

"Then, who gave it to me? Why?" Tom wanted to know.

"We don't know," Audrey replied. "But, we think it was to prevent you from doing what you just did. By the same token, to keep you from reaching Eltlys."

"You're not suggesting that I'm the real thing?" Tom asked with disbelieved.

"I believe we have been suggesting this possibility for a very long time, Asa," Semack reminded him.

Tom cursed under his breath. "Now, what?"

000

Tom corrected his heading for the umpteen time. He growled at himself with frustration. Ever since he had taken the helm of the _Mist,_ two hours earlier, he had been struggling to maintain the _Amnesty_ and _Voyager_ in the present _inter-layer_. Now and again, he was realizing that his course was heading further down to the right. It felt as if he was drawn there like a magnet. For the life of him, he could not tell why.

With more resolved than ever, Tom did all he could to concentrate on his navigating. He did not notice the silent conversation that was taken place between Semack and Dominick behind him.

"Asa," came Semack's voice.

"I know, I know, concentrate," the pilot mumbled.

"Actually, Asa, I was about to suggest that you follow your instincts," said the Vulcan.

"My instincts, Semack?" Tom challenged.

"Yes. Trust yourself again," his old friend replied.

_Trust himself again_. It was easier said than done. It had been so long since Tom had navigated the Corridor. It was as exhilarating as he remembered it to be, but somehow it was also different. Tom felt like he knew where he was going, however he kept on making stupid errors.

"You don't think that I'm making errors, do you Semack?"

"In light of your recent new abilities, the possibility that you might be making unconscious accurate corrections to our original fight plan has indeed occurred to me."

_Trust his instincts_, Tom thought agaim. He was known to have good ones. They had rarely left him down before. Why not call upon them, here and now?

"Trust my instincts," he said at loud. "Let's see where they can lead us."

Dominick nodded in agreement.

000

Tom rolled on his back. No matter how hard he tried, he could not sleep, nor could he ignore the constant ringing sound in his ears. It had started a few days before. The pilot had not given too much thought to it until now. He had first believed it as being another one of the Corridor's side effects. Now, as he laid in bed in the dark, B'Elanna sound asleep by his side, his attention had nothing else to focus upon.

As he allowed himself to listen, he realized that the sound was not continuous and there were different pitches. Was he hearing different sounds? Has he concentrated harder, he felt the sounds to be familiar somehow. There were not like the type of sounds that one would hear on a starship. They were too high pitched. There were more like the sounds one would here in a forests. Sounds of the wind playing in the leaves and of bird singing.

Could he be hearing sounds from the Winter Garden? Until Chakotay had found his way there, Tom had never thought of the place as more then a fabrication of his imagination. Could he now be able to go there suddenly as his Spiritual friend could?

Tom sighed heavily as he was forced to admit that a lot had changed about himself - within himself. With the amino acid gone, he seemed to be able to do things that he had never been able to accomplish before. Things that only the Children of Eltlys were rumoured to be able to do.

Back on Part-Ayalexis, he had dedicated most of his work at the _Silver-Seas_ Foundation to the search for those special children, inside and outside the Corridor. He was not the only one to look for them. Unfortunately, his work had often begun with the disappearance of a child or the discovery of a tragic death.

A knot formed in his throat and he felt a tear rolled down his cheek as old and horrific memories of little lifeless corpses filled his mind. As Tom had done many times before, he tried to push the images away thinking of Sayana and Solenn, playing and laughing in the family backyard.

He was missing them so terribly.

Tom shifted uncomfortably. This line of thought was doing nothing to bring him peace of mind. On the contrary.

If he was the real thing, a Child of Eltlys - as his kidnappers had believed when he was four, and as Audrey, Semack, and Dominick also considered a possibility - then what about Solenn? What about his mother? Frustrated, Tom got out of bed and walked around. If only he could shut out those voices in his mind!

000

The chime of the door woke Chakotay up. He groaned in annoyance. In a soft voice, he told the woman laying next to him to go back to sleep. He passed on a robe. Once in the living area, he called for half light, then invited his visitor to come in. He was surprised and concerned by the appearance of his visitors. "Tom, B'Elanna, is everything all right?"

The younger man nodded. "I'm sorry, Chakotay. I know it's late, but I need to talk to Be, Gwanna, and you."

Chakotay smiled, assuring Tom that they were welcome anytime. "I'll go wake Gwanna. Make yourselves at ease."

He went to the bedroom and came back moment later with a still sleepy Gwanna. Tom had taken the liberty to replicate some coffee for all off them.

"Asa, you're okay?" Gwanna inquired, worried.

"I'm not sure," he answered, giving her a cup of coffee. "I need to talk and you're the ones I feel the closest to." He sighed again. "And, if I bring this to the others, they'll just think that I'm overreacting."

"What's on your mind?" Chakotay encouraged him.

"Do you still visit the Winter Garden?" Tom asked. He seemed apprehensive as he waited for the answer.

"Yes, I do," the Native American replied. "Not always on purpose."

Tom smiled sympathetically. "How are things there?"

"Quite nice," Chakotay assured him. "Asa and I are bonding more and more each visit. He still doesn't talk to me, but I feel that it will come in time. As for the Winter Garden itself, it's more like a Spring day. The leaves in the trees are of a tender green. There are flowers growing along the path and around the pond. The sun is warm. Sometimes, I can even hear birds signing."

"I don't think that they're birds," Tom said. He bit his lower lip. "I'm hearing voices - children voices. I can't make out what they're saying. They are too far away. But, I'm sure it's there. It's familiar and it scares me."

"Did it began when we entered in the Corridor?" Gwanna wondered.

"Not quite. It started a few days ago. At first, I thought it was my ears ringing, like some sort of tanitus or something. But now, I'm pretty sure I'm hearing voices."

"Tom, you have been under a lot of stress lately," Chakotay pointed out. "Could being back into the Corridor bring back old memories of your kidnapping. You did say that you had been in the Corridor at the time."

"Maybe, I don't know," Tom said.

"Any idea yet on who might have put the amino acid in your system?" asked Gwanna.

"Could be a number of people," Tom said, allowing a sarcastic smile.

"You never really told us what happened when you were four," Chakotay reminded him.

"True," Tom granted. He took a sip of coffee before going on.

"Well, I was kidnapped in Port-Ayalexis by the members of a Kimirian radical movement. They wanted to put pressure on my dad so that would influence Starfleet in supporting their actions during the war with Irsia. You know as well as I do that Starfleet doesn't negotiate over hostages that even over the life of a child. Apparently, they were about to execute me when an Elshan came along. He either bought me or _kidnapped_ me from my kidnapers. He brought me into the Corridor. I don't remember much about what happened there. I have flashes and nightmares, and other kinds of odd feelings. What I know is that two months later, I ended up with Lahuma. She brought me home."

They fell silent for a moment, enjoying their coffee. Then, Chakotay brought back the issue of the mysterious amino acid.

"The way things are turning into in the Winter Garden," he began. "I believe that the removal of the amino acid was for the best. It freed Asa from the pond."

"I'm not so sure, Chakotay," Tom disagreed. "I don't think it was meant to be. I made some research on the genetic background of Hao, Lassa, Gwanna, me, and a few others that were kidnapped by the Elshans. We already know that we're all half Kimiran, but the ones that are never found are the ones like _me_. Those who are born without the amino acid." Tom paused. "I think that Audrey, Semack, and Dominick are right. it was given to me in order to protect me from something or prevent me from reaching Eltlys."

"Eltlys?" asked B'Elanna.

"The Secret Path," answered Gwanna.

000

Following Tom's request, Chakotay returned to the Winter Garden upon morning.

The hot dry air blew in his face. The suddenly bright surrounding blinded him for a moment. _Spirits! How could it be so hot? _Once his eyes adjusted to the brightness, Chakotay was finally able to take in his environment.

It was a mid-summer day!

The trees were filled with emerald green leaves. Flowers beds were surrounding the paved walkway. The pond was crystal blue. It's surface was disturbed now and then by the rocks that Asa was throwing into the water.

"Asa," he called.

Eyes as blue as the sky looked up his way. A huge smile crept upon the child's face. Forgetting his play, Asa jumped on his feet and ran towards Chakotay as fast as he could, the cat and the wolf in tow.

"You're back!" the little boy said enthusiastically.

Chakotay bent down, arms opened, and scooped Asa into his arms. "Yes, sorry it took so long. I missed you," replied Chakotay, returning the child smile.

He could hardly contain his joy at hearing Asa say something for the first time. A tear ran down his cheek.

"Why are you crying?" asked Asa, taken aback.

"Because I'm very happy. I'm happy to hear you're voice, Asa."

"Oh," said the boy, not quite understanding Chakotay's answer.

"Everything is all right," Chakotay told him with a reassuring smile.

Asa laid his little blond head on Chakotay's shoulder. The adult cuddled the child against himself, lovingly stoking his back. Like this, Chakotay walked around the pond. Again, he could hear birds, well sort of. With the wind playing through the leaves, it was hard to tell if there were birds or not. He carefully scrutinized the threes. He could not see any birds. He ventured into the edge of the forest. There he could not even hear the _birds _anymore. Maybe Tom was right. Maybe what they were both hearing were not birds. He walked to the bench by the pond. There, he could hear the sounds again.

"Asa," he said softly. The youngster looked up at him. "Do you hear other people than me talking?"

Asa nodded several times. His expression sobered.

"Are you afraid of them?"

Again, the child nodded.

"Why are you afraid of them?" Chakotay wondered.

"They hurt my friends," Asa told him sadly.

"Your friends?" he echoed, surprised. "Where are they?"

Asa pointed in the direction of the path leading away from the Winter Garden.

000

**End of part A**

**We know that we kept all of you waiting for a very long time. We are very sorry about that.**

**Big THANKS to DANIELLE for Beta reading.**

**We hope that you liked the first part of Secret Pawn. Part B will eventually follow :).**

**Thank you for reading.**

**Synbou (a.k.a. Isabelle S. And Louise B.)**

**Jully 2001**


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